


I Don't Even Know Your Name

by kkruml



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-03-26 16:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 49,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13861782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkruml/pseuds/kkruml
Summary: A series of near meetings for Jamie and Claire leads to an unexpected relationship, set in modern day Scotland. Claire is a medical student and Jamie owns a whisky distillery.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first attempt at fanfic, all feedback is welcome, though please be respectful (please and thank you!)
> 
> I wrote a mini chapter and counted it as 2.5 and now my chapter titles differ slightly from what the website auto-populates... Alas- my novice skills are laid bare for all to see. I won't be be making that mistake again (no matter how short the chapter!)

-2 years ago-

Claire

“Congratulations Lady Jane! First round is on me, come on let’s head to the bar and see what they have that we can properly cheers to.”

I smiled and let Joe lead the way through the crowd to a long wood-grained mahogany bar. Edison lights were strung along the back wall, a soft twinkle shining off the whisky bottles that lined the brick wall. The bar was cozy, and despite having just opened the month before, it had a warm quality to it- a familiarity that felt like home, it felt lived in. Broch Mordha- the name seemed to fit. I would really have to find out what that meant someday. Seeing the expansive collection of bottles and labels, I smiled to myself as I imagined myself stopping here after a long shift, finding a quiet corner or comfy seat at the bar to enjoy a good stiff dram.

After settling on the Glen Grant 12 year, we settled into the only two open stools, nestled between a group of fellow medical students and a mop of red curly hair set atop an imposing set of shoulders. As I shifted fully onto the stool, I felt a warm pulse emanate from the figure behind me. I caught the motion of a slight twitch of the hand resting on the bar, strong fingers intently drumming, though not to any beat I could hear.

Two glasses later, I checked my phone and rolled my eyes at the time, reflexively sighing, “Best be heading home, Joe. I have some studying to do.”

“LJ we just graduated, there’s no more studying. Now you just go and do what’s been in your bones since day one. But I’ll grab Gail and we can walk out with you.”

I nodded in relief, and set my glass on the bar with more flourish than I intended and the figure next to me flinched. I swayed slightly as I planted two feet firmly on the ground and a warm, large hand gently pressed into my lower back.

“So sorry please-“

I paused, unable to form the rest of my apology. Eyes the color of a deep clear sea stared into mine, concerned yet somewhat amused.

“Ye alright, lass?” his Scottish lilt catching the last sound and drawing a small twitch to the corner of his mouth.

“Yes- thank you. I think we got a little carried away with celebrating but I’m fine. A bit of fresh air should help. Thank you again.”

“Aye, well lass- if ye can stand up, yer no drunk, ye ken.” His lips slid into a half smile, curling at the corner and a small hum rumbled in his chest. While I had heard this distinctly Scottish sound before, it suddenly sounded new, and alarmingly intimate. I managed a weak attempt to clear my throat, feeling his hand still warm and steady against me. I resisted leaning against it, and instead made a move to straighten out a non-existent wrinkle in my shirt. 

“Yes, well… thank you again. Cheers.” I stammered with a smile and turned around to see Joe eying me with a hint of humor. To my relief, he kept his face set into a genuine smile but said nothing, helping me weave back through the somewhat raucous crowd to our coats.

As we collected Gail and headed towards the exit, I took a moment to turn and risk a glance back towards the bar. My eyes scanned the remaining crowd and immediately stopped when they met those same blue eyes. My god, was he really that tall? A quick blink to take in the height, auburn curls framing his face, and the intense stare locked on me. My breath hitched as I felt a smile break open in response, taking in the sight for a last second as I hurried out the door. Feeling flushed and in need of air, I let the cold winter air wash over me, finally let out the breath that I hadn’t realized I had been holding in.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I never even got his name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the first "almost meet," but with Jamie's view of the night.

Previously

My eyes scanned the remaining crowd and immediately stopped when they met those same blue eyes. My god, was he really that tall? A quick blink to take in the height, auburn curls framing his face, and the intense stare locked on me. My breath hitched as I felt a smile break open in response, taking in the sight for a last second as I hurried out the door. Feeling flushed and in need of air, I let the cold winter air wash over me, finally let out the breath that I hadn’t realized I had been holding in.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I never even got his name.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Chapter 2

-2 Years ago-

Jamie

What a relief. Months of scouting, analyzing, and rehearsing the pitch had gone exactly as planned. He reviewed the unique draws of a whisky collection based in the Highlands as part of the 300 year anniversary of the Lallybroch Distillery- the region’s largest manufacturer of Scottish whisky and a mainstay of Broch Mordha’s tourist appeal. All Murtagh needed to do was show the projected profit reports and the deal was as good as made. 

The owners had poured a round of the Lallybroch 20 year small batch- a sign that they had reached a deal. The logistics, details and paperwork could wait until tomorrow. For now, it was time to celebrate.  


_________

After a long day of shuffling from bar to bar checking inventory and matching invoices for new orders, Jamie found himself outside Broch Mordha. The sun had just set and the warm golden hues streaking across the sky matched the color of his favorite whisky. Better stop in for just one dram- just to see how the whisky is selling.

The liquid warmed his throat, with floral scents that danced on the tongue and a slight tingle lingered as he closed his eyes allowing the rest to trickle down his throat. Perfection. 

Murtagh grabbed his glass and hung up his phone as he plopped down beside him on the bar stool. “Damn things need to be broken in! My arse feels stiff already. How do they expect patrons to enjoy their whisky when they’re being popped off their chairs like a rabbit come springtime?”

“Ach, dinna fash- if we drink as much as I suspect tonight, these seats will be well fine come mornin’.” Jamie smiled as he patted him on the back, the most unlikely business partner yet most natural to be there- his kinsman guarding his left. 

A few more glasses collected before them, and as he shifted to signal for the check, he felt a slight stirring behind him. The lightest touch from whoever occupied the barstool next to him shot a bolt of electricity through his body. He turned slightly to see a mess of deep brown curls and sweet smile as a quiet but determined voice ordered two glasses of the Glen Grant 12 year- a modest yet wise choice. By the inflection in her words, there was distinct foreignness to her tone. While she had likely spent some time here, her voice had a distinct –if not subtle- British cadence. 

He had intended to leave once his glass was empty but having seen the creature next to him, he felt an inexplicable pull that anchored him to his stool and he felt his shoulders straighten just slightly. “Just one more glass, aye Murtagh?” he said, feigning disinterest.

“No had yer fill yet, lad?” Murtagh mused, staring into the bottom of his glass with dismay as only his reflection stared back. While he wasn’t particularly anxious to get home to a cold and empty bed, his nephew’s sudden shift in posture intrigued him. He could see the soft drum of Jamie’s fingers on the bar top, deep in thought, eyes focused yet distant. “Do ye hear me, Jamie?”

“Aye, I hear ye.” 

“Yer head’s in the porridge lad, but I canna refuse just one more dram.” Distracted, and without another word, Jamie signaled to the bartender and two more glasses appeared.

Jamie sipped slowly, wanting to savor the sensation of the whisky and the hazy bubble of warmth it created, surrounding him and the Sassenach occasionally brushing against his back. For all he cared they were the only two in the bar, a frenzied energy like static in the air between them.

From the little he could hear, the conversation behind him mostly consisted of hospital rotations and some sort of schedule for a celebration. But he found nothing overtly personal- no inflection of intimacy in the baritone voice that mingled effortlessly with her own.

Murtagh muttered here and there about the next steps in their business plan, Jamie nodded occasionally but felt his thoughts wander back to the pulsing energy just behind him. He had barely laid eyes on the lass but he felt the need to keep watch while she was near. 

As he drained the last few drops in his glass, a sudden clank of glass coupled with an almost imperceptible shift in the weight behind him as it grazed the length of his spine. Instinctively he turned and reached out his hand, finding a slim waist under a cover of shear silk. His hand reflexively tightened around her as his eyes searched hers for signs of concern. Finding none, his shoulders relaxed.

“So sorry please-“ 

“Ye alright, lass?” he interjected, fighting a smile as he fully took in the face staring back at him- dark brown curls, porcelain skin kissed with the rosy haze a night of good whisky unveils. Her eyes themselves reminded him of his favorite vintage and they burned into his with an intensity that caught him off guard.

“Yes- thank you. I think we got a little carried away with celebrating but I’m fine. A bit of fresh air should help. Thank you again.” 

“Aye, well lass- if ye can stand up, yer no drunk, ye ken,” he said with a small sigh, thinking of those same words muttered by Murtagh many years before. A celebration, aye that was it. She must be part of the most recent wave of doctoral graduates to wander into the bar. While she certainly had her fill of spirits, she kept her shoulders square and there was a self-assuredness in her eyes-though he thought he caught her confidence falter for just a moment as she looked down and her hand grazed the hem of her shirt.

“Yes, well… thank you again. Cheers.” And with that, she whirled around to her friend and they weaved their way through the crowd towards the exit. His eyes never left her. He was vaguely aware of Murtagh pestering him for another round when he saw her stop at the door.

As the door opened, she turned, eyes scanning the room. They stopped as they locked on his and her face lit up with a vibrant smile. In that moment he saw a flash of what should be- his red curls against her bare skin, limbs tangled up in cotton sheets, fingertips touching in utter tenderness. With a blink, she was gone.

A Dhia, he needed to learn her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been blown away by the response to this story. THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT! I hope you enjoyed Chapter 2!


	3. Chapter 2.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a run through Edinburgh, Jamie finds himself looking for Claire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a quick mini piece as I finish chapter 3 (to be posted soon!)

Jamie

Another day, another run. 

His planned route was to cut through the Holyrood Park and head east towards the golf course, but the Royal Infirmary was straight ahead, and as unlikely as it was, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this would be the day.

This wasn’t the first detour he had taken. While he had reasoned this was the best way to get to know his new neighborhood, he’d found his way to more than half of the dozen hospitals in Edinburgh over the last few weeks- various routes and distances but all had nothing to show for his efforts. 

The morning mist was starting to clear as his mind recalled the conversation she had with her friend- he couldn’t have been more than her friend…Jamie had distinctly seen him wrap his arm around another woman as they left. No- her voice did not soften as they spoke, there was familiarity- Yes. That much was certain. But the way her face lit up as her eyes met his, the heat between them as he steadied her, the almost imperceptible way she leaned into his touch… No. He was not imagining that. He could not have been the only one to feel it that night, nor deny the hold it still had on him three months later. 

Where had she said she would be working? Was it even in Edinburgh? Scotland? She could be anywhere by now. Just keep going. Shaking his head, Jamie’s thoughts continued in a cyclical pattern. 

Which hospital? 

If only he had asked her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire visits a familiar place and meets a new face (and a familiar one).

6 months later

So that’s what a sunset looks like.

After 6 months of night shifts, I never thought I’d be so happy to see the red and orange streak across the sky as a farewell to the day, instead of its welcoming. The fresh spring air filled my lungs and I caught a fleeting scent of lavender- it was intoxicating. 

I pulled my jacket snug around my body tucked my scarf a bit tighter around my face. My Scarf. I smiled to myself as I remembered the day I had finally finished it. The attending instructors had recommended knitting to help build and keep dexterity during our surgical rotations. I was so proud of my work that I stitched my initials into the corner- CEB- marking it as truly mine, one of the few sentimental things I owned.

I allowed myself to meander somewhat, turning onto streets that prolonged my view of the purple and blue just starting to peak out from behind the building tops.

Before I knew it was in the market district, full of shops and restaurants, and a familiar sign peaked through the now budding trees. Broch Mordha. I smiled to myself as I remembered the last-and only- time I was here, celebrating the end of exams just before graduation.

My breath caught slightly as the sky changed again- this time to the exact hue of a deep clear sea and in a flash I saw his eyes in my mind- strong and intense, lined with lashes that faded to a deep auburn at the tips. I had seen them before, many times, and knew them as well as my own.

While I had had little time for more than sleeping, eating, and working, in quiet moments I would let my mind wander and I would see him. Flashes of moments would flood my vision, a heady mix of images that sent a pulsing sensation through my body and lingered in my chest. His mess of red curls a stark contrast against my white cotton sheets, those large hands gently caressing the curves of my hips, lingering as they dip close to my navel. Strong arms bracing himself as he lays over me as my fingers tracing the muscular lines of his back- lips barely touching as he moves to thrust himself home.

I shook my head, trying to clear the memories of moments I had not lived but could almost touch and know to be real. You’re being ridiculous, Beauchamp.

I could feel the weight of his gaze on me anytime I walked into a room- but always only for a moment. Then, like a gust of wind, my thoughts would scatter- drifting in a thousand directions, unable to catch any single moment and hold it close.

But still, those sensations remained just under the surface, begging to be called upon.

The exhaustion was slowly leaching into my bones and my legs were beginning to stiffen. It’s been a long 6 months. Although part of me knew I should pick up the pace and make it home before true darkness fell, the glowing lights against the brick wall seemed to wink at me, an invitation to come in and visit. Just one drink.

The bar was quiet, much quieter than the last time I had been here. I had my choice of seat and decided to settle into the corner spot at the left of the bar, a good vantage point should anything interesting happen, or anyone I know should walk in. The bottles still twinkled, reflecting the faint colors of the sunset seeping through the window- the last few moments of color before night took over.

Scanning the selection, my eyes stopped at what looked like a new bottle. Unfamiliar with the label, I inched closer for a better look. Lallybroch Distillery. Hm.

“Excuse me, can you tell me about this ‘Lallybroch Distillery?’ I’m not familiar with it.”

The bartender had been busy tidying up from the early dinner crowd- shuffling dirty glasses into the dishwasher and stacking bar napkins with his back to me. He quickly turned around, surprised to see me sitting there but smiled as he nodded, fetching the bottle for me to see. “Aye. A verra old distillery up in the Highlands, this bottle marks their 300th anniversary. It’s verra rare. Have only had it in stock for maybe 6-7 months or so. Quite a treat should ye ever want a taste.”

“Aye, verra rare indeed.” A voice mumbled from a stool across the bar. The man’s voice was gruff, but his eyes softened as they flickered to the bottle, a hint of affection peeking through. What he said next I couldn’t be sure. His face was covered almost entirely by a thick brown beard and a set of expressive eyebrows- by the way they furrowed as his posture stiffened on his stool, he did not look entirely comfortable. 

“I see. Thank you, I think I’ll stick with the Glen Grant for now, though.” I said with a pang of regret. The shelf it occupied behind the bar hinted at just how rare and expensive it likely was. The label was simple yet intricate. The name looked to be written by hand, likely by the founding distillers. A single thistle tucked just under the writing on the bottom right corner, against a backdrop of the Scottish flag, but faded enough to look every one of its 300 years. The bottle was slender with an elegant neck and the cork looked to be cut by hand- rustic, unique, and genuine. I closed my eyes and could almost imagine this very bottle being passed around a campfire on a cold night in the Highla-

“The 12 year, ye said?” the bartender interjected over his shoulder, replacing the precious bottle to its secure spot on the top shelf and scanning the more reasonable selection for the right bottle.

“Yes- neat please. Thank you.” I tried my best to recall the image of kilts and horses lit by firelight in my mind, but it faded as the mahogany bar came back into view.

“Glen Grant is no a bad choice, lass.” He did not look at me, but the man to my right nodded as he said it.

“There are so many to choose from, perhaps one day I will try them all.” I said, staring at the sea of amber encapsulated in a variety of differently shaped bottles and embossed with ornate lettering- each marked with its own distinct heritage.

His eyebrows danced a bit, and then added, “If ye have a mind for it, the Gatherin’ just on the eve of Beltane. A fine celebration for Lallybroch, ye ken.”

I nodded with a smile, an image of plaid kilts and horses trickling back into my mind.

The bartender poured the drink with flourish, no doubt to entertain himself as much as me given the lack of patrons to tend to. The man from across the bar tipped his glass to me and I reciprocated with a smile. “I’m Claire. Slàinte,” I tried for the Scottish lilt while saying the only Gaelic word I knew, and by the look on his face, I had failed miserably.

“Murtagh.” And with almost a wink, he added “Slàinte Mhath.” 

And with that, we sat in companionable silence, both enjoying the quiet peace and the liquid in our glasses.

I drank slower than strictly necessary. While each sip did help shed each stressful moment and concern for that day’s patients, I was becoming more aware of each new patron walking through the door - perking slightly at the sound of a deep low hum of each voice as they entered. I hadn’t realized it, but I was disappointed with each new face. I closed my eyes and saw his eyes, his curly auburn hair, the twitch of his lip as he held back a smile. I could still hear the deep purr of his voice in my ear, the heat of his hand on the small of my back. His lips had been close enough- though just briefly- that I could almost guess the type of whisky on his lips.

Being here again, sipping the same whisky, I naively thought he’d suddenly reappear. The last of the whisky savored, I could delay no longer. I checked my phone- 8:30- just enough time to get home before full darkness.

With a heavy sigh and feeling more than a bit foolish, I paid my tab and grabbed my coat. To my surprise, the figure to my right nodded in a quick farewell and raised what was left of his whisky. I smiled in return and as his head bent back down to focus on his glass, I thought I caught a glimpse of someone familiar, someone perhaps I had vaguely seen before.

My mind was pondering how he looked familiar- had I treated him as a patient? Hm. Strange.

As I grabbed for the door, I looked back at the bottle of Lallybroch, and made a silent promise to myself that one day I would taste that whisky. As my head swiveled back to the door, my cheek struck something hard and I stumbled back a few steps and my left hand reached up to check for damage. My eyes focused and I gasped.

I was staring at a large chest, attached to a set of imposing shoulders set higher than I remembered, like a Highlander warrior set ready to strike. I slowly brought my eyes upward and my heart stopped as they met blue eyes, framed by auburn lashes.

“Are ye alright, lass?” That voice. It stirred the muscles in my stomach and sent a chill down my spine.

I stood frozen, unable to form a coherent sentence. All of the moments I had imagined came flooding into my mind and I could feel my cheeks flush into a deep red.

“Um…Yes- t-t-thank you,” was all I could muster.

“More celebrating today, is it?” A small smile threatened at the corner of his mouth. “Good thing I was here to set ye steady again, aye?”

“Well this time I might not have needed if it weren’t for you” I said, momentarily finding stable footing and taking a moment to find my voice, though it still shook slightly.

His eyes shifted – amusement was replaced with an intensity that almost forced me backwards yet anchored me where I stood. With a small cock to his head, his voice hummed in his throat and he said, “Sae true lass, the proper Scottish way to make amends is to buy ye a dram- if ye like. I know of a good vintage, hard to find. It’s-“

I flinched as the beep of my pager rang out in warning. CODE BLUE- incoming trauma. They may need extra hands on deck, and although I had already put in 16 hours and was one whisky deep, I may be of some use triaging minor cases in the Emergency Room to free up other staff. All hands on deck. Bloody Hippocratic Oath.

Our eyes met, but neither one of us spoke. I felt my heart drop. The initial adrenaline rush gave way to a stark realization that after so many months of imagining him, he was here- flesh and bone- right before my very eyes. I could reach out and touch him- feel his solid frame and warmth under my fingertips. And now I had to leave. My eyes must have showed regret, because his voiced softened as he leaned in, “I must part wi’ ye now, aye? Och, another time perhaps?”

The pager erupted again, this time louder and did not relent. I could not focus my thoughts, and simply let out a sigh, nodded and used the last of my energy to try for a smile, though it must have looked half-hearted. “I’d like that.” Despite my exhaustion, I don’t think I had ever meant anything more in my life.

As I moved to walk past him his hand brushed mine and it sent a jolt through me, landing firmly in my stomach- perhaps a bit below. My eye caught the same rhythmic twitch of his fingers as I glanced down for the door handle.

The smile pulling at the corner of his mouth broke free- that smile, the smile I dreamt was for only me- stunned me into silence. “Until next time then, Sasse-“ Sirens from the ambulance speeding in the direction of the hospital drowned out that last word as it jolted me forward and I spilled into the street.

I could feel his eyes on me as I turned right and hurried back in the direction of the hospital, following the sound of the sirens.

This time though, I was not imagining it- it was real, and it left me feeling intoxicated by more than the taste of whisky still on my breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A familiar moment, and a few new details learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 1-4 literally spilled onto the pages so they’ve been posted in pretty quick succession… chapter 5 is taking a bit more brainpower but I am hopeful to post it in the next few days. If you’re enjoying the story, don’t stray too far! :)

Jamie

He was running late. Murtagh was going to have words about this. He had told him to call it a day at five o’clock but Jamie had two new pubs he wanted to check out before he met him out for a drink. The big celebration at Lallybroch was fast approaching and he needed every ounce of interest he could muster from the local businesses to help ensure it would be a success. 

Unbeknownst to Murtagh, Jamie had also fit in a quick run and had stopped back at his flat to change from his running gear and take a quick shower. The run had invigorated him and while the shower rinsed off the sweat of the day, he still felt heated and decided against his winter coat- grabbing instead his faded leather jacket as he hurried out the door.

He took the stairs two at a time with impressive speed and was out the door, his feet hitting the sidewalk in no time. Once outside, he slowed his gait just long enough to zip his coat and take in a brief moment of quiet solitude before he met his godfather for what would likely be a long and whisky-filled night.

The wind had a distinct springtime scent, but the lingering nip of winter blew through his coat and he felt every drop from his damp hair trickle down the back of his neck as he shook his head. Should have grabbed a hat at least a scarf. He pulled is collar tight as he picked up the pace.

Over the last six months he’d been to Broch Mordha more than a few times. It was around the corner from his flat and stayed open late so he could get a decent dram no matter what the hour. Each time he would sit in the same spot at the bar, with an easy vantage point for eyeing the door. Each night he would sit a breath or two longer- empty glass in front of him. Waiting. He was feeling the harsh reality setting in, a pressure in his chest he had kept at bay as long as he could. He had missed his chance- she was gone.

Just as he reached the pub and grabbed for the door handle, he felt his phone vibrate- he paused to check the call-ID.

Och- not tonight.

He hit the “ignore” button and slid his phone back into his pocket.

No sooner had he pulled the door open did he feel something solid hit his chest with a loud thud and he froze. His arms grabbed for the intrusion and felt a shock of heat shoot through his palms and reeled as the current pulsed through him. His eyes focused quickly to see those same dark curls as they spilled down her cheeks- flushed with a familiar rosy haze. Her eyes alight with surprise and- delight? Her hand was instantly rubbing her cheek, and he choked down a laugh as he recalled those same words he first said to her.

“Are ye alright, lass?” Christ, she was stunning.

“Um…Yes- t-t-thank you,” she muttered, waving her hand in an attempt to dismiss his concern.

“More celebrating today, is it?” His face- and his manners- were starting to crack. He could feel a smile form and he stifled it as best he could as he teased, “Good thing I was here to set ye steady again, aye?”

She seemed to regain herself just enough to respond with the same confidence he remembered, “Well this time I might not have needed it were it not for you.”

That fire- that spark within her. He knew he had seen a glimpse of it six months ago and now he saw the same hint of flame in her eyes now. He nodded his head, considering his options. Another quick glance at her face and his mind was made up. “Sae true lass, the proper Scottish way to make amends is to buy you a dram- if ye like. I know of a good vintage, hard to find. It’s-“

Before he could finish, her pager went off- startling them both. 

Please dinna leave, please not yet.

With as much gentleness as he could muster, he sighed “I must part wi’ ye now, aye? Och, another time perhaps?”

The pager sounded again, this time with more force and did not stop its warning call.

Jamie stood there silent, feeling helpless as she offered a small smile and let out a sigh too big for her body. She seemed to find her reserve of energy as she brought her eyes to meet his one last time.

“I’d like that.” And by the glint in her eye, he knew she meant it. He stepped aside as she moved towards the door, and her hand brushed his.

“Until next time then, Sasse-“ The sound of the siren drowned out that last word as she stepped into the street. His eyes did not flinch as she turned and disappeared.

 

Of all the…A Dhia- he had seen her again.

He had all but given up hope in seeing her again and now- he had finally seen her, and she was more than what he could have ever remembered. Her eyes were the distinct color of the whisky he spent a lifetime crafting. The curl of her smile- it was so self-assured and yet tentative all in one moment. The inflection in her distinctly foreign accent as she countered his humor with her own tough exterior cracking under the heat of their proximity.

So many miles. How many hours had he contemplated what he’d say should he see her again? He’d toured all of Edinburgh looking for her. And here she was- almost knocked herself over running into him. 

When the last traces of her shadow faded from view, he reluctantly turned and headed towards the bar and his waiting companion.

Murtagh watched his godson as he made his way towards the bar, noticing the skip in his step and subtle glances over his shoulder as he came to sit beside him. “Something catch yer eye there, lad?”

“Och- dinna start, man.” He countered, not wanting to cut down the euphoric sensation in his limbs.

With a pat on the back, Jamie couldn’t help but let out a chuckle and a small sigh. He needed a whisky.

He sipped slowly at first, but as their conversation turned to the upcoming celebration they both spoke animatedly and their glasses clinked with enthusiasm as they regaled their grand plans to bring their lifelong passion to an impressive milestone. They made plans for extra bottling, a thorough cleaning of the stables, and the need to set up the demonstrations. Lallybroch had been a functioning farm since 1718 and while they had kept up with technology, they had saved the old wooden plows and continued the tradition of training horses to till the land. They had also converted an old shed to a tasting room and updated a few of the spare rooms should any customers enjoy their drink and need a place to stay.

With energy spent, a natural lull crept into their conversation, each enjoying the familiar taste of home in their glasses. After a few pleasant moments, Jamie’s eyes caught a slight change in posture of the figure next to him. Murtagh swirled the dark amber liquid, not making eye contact.

“Out wi’ it, will ye?” Jamie said, knowing the question was coming.

Murtagh had seen his moment with the lass, and knew it was only a matter of time before he got his ribbing in. He had held off as long as he could, but the time had come.

“Lass knows her whisky,” was all he offered, taking a small sip and a smirk formed, glancing over in anticipation.

“Ye spoke wi’ the lass?!” Jamie sputtered in surprise, whisky dripping down his chin.

A small chuckle rumbled in Murtagh’s chest. So it was the lass he had seen that night all those months ago. “ Oh, aye.”

“Christ, man. What’d she say?” His mind was racing, what had she said, what had Murtagh said? Did she ask about him? No- of course not. How could she have known they were related?-No- No sense in getting hopes up. Despite this declaration, he felt the heat rising in his throat and his ears were ringing with anticipation. “OUT WI’ IT!”

“Ye damn fool- we didna sit around sharin’ secrets. She asked about our whisky.” He countered, slightly annoyed, but mostly amused at Jamie’s growing desperation for information.

“What do ye mean, Murtagh?! Is she comin’ to the Gatherin’?”

“Do I look like a gypsy to ye?” Murtagh was stifling a laugh, muffling it with a forced cough and swirl of his glass as he took another sip, downing the amber liquid. Seeing Jamie so undone was rare, and while there was some humor in it, he could see the sobering effect it was having on him. Murtagh sighed and reached and grabbed the piece of knotted cloth from the bar stool. “Lass left this.”

Jamie gently took the scarf, slowly turning it over in his hands, feeling the intricate and evenly placed rows of auburn wool. He smiled to himself, catching the same hue out of the corner of his eye as a stray curl dangled from his temple. Inspecting each inch with appreciation, he paused as his eye caught a change in pattern. A neat row of stitches had been engraved “CEB” into the corner. Small, but precise. With surgical precision. Her hands made this, and now his own cradled it with unspoken reverence.

Murtagh eyed Jamie- no longer finding humor in teasing him. In an honest- if not tipsy- admission, he added “Lass has the sweetest smile lad, save yer ma.”

Jamie’s heart tightened as his eyes met Murtagh’s, a small nod of acknowledgement and a moment later- a hint of a smile.

Murtagh’s eyes glinted with humor, “But the hair, lad,” he said shaking his head, “minds me of tumble weed, Aye?”

Jamie felt the smile widen as a laugh formed deep in his chest, and he nodded in agreement. Feeling more content than he had all night, his thoughts focused-

Mo Nighean Donn.

“Murtagh?” Jamie asked in earnest, Murtagh catching the change in tone and lifted his head to meet Jamie’s eye.

“Aye?”

“The lass, did ye ken her name?”

Murtagh hid his smile a swig of his whisky, allowing Jamie one last moment of anticipation.

“Aye… Claire.”

Claire. Her name was Claire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time speeds up as the Gathering nears and two worlds collide.

Claire

A flurry of low-level trauma cases occupied the next few weeks. Anxious bikers and hiking enthusiasts had taken advantage of a string of warm sunny days and ventured beyond their sensibilities, throwing caution to the wind and many had landed in the A&E because of it. A handful of broken bones, one punctured lung and countless twisted ankles blended together into one blurred shift that in turn morphed into a long and sleepless headache. I need a day off.

“Lady J, are you going to the Beltane festival this weekend? Edinburgh looks to be putting on a pretty big show.”

I sighed, checking my watch and noted final rounds would be starting soon. I had worked 12 days straight and my bones ached. “I picked up the Saturday overnight shift for Geillis.” I hadn’t really thought much of it at the time. She asked me over a month ago, before I learned about the old distillery and their big celebration. Gathering. He distinctly said gathering. What exactly was that anyways?

I was pulled from my thoughts as Joe laughed and shook his head. “LJ one of these days you need to do something for yourself. All you do is work.”

“Not true,” I protested, not believing my own words.

For the last few weeks I found myself distracted, anchorless, needing purpose. Having running into… Christ, I didn’t even know his name. This was madness. How could two brief moments have ignited something so startling within me? I hadn’t even told Joe- couldn’t tell Joe. He was my closest friend and confidant- the closest thing I had to family, but to try to explain whatever this had become was just too much to say aloud. 

Bloody… Scot.

So I threw myself into my work, determined to find the calm clarity I usually felt in healing. In a sea of chaos and confusion I was always able to find focus, and adrenaline would pinpoint the most acute need to tend to. Recently though, I found myself scanning each hospital bed, each new admission for curly red hair. And when that failed, I settled for hoping to see that bushy beard and impressive set of eyebrows. Behind that façade was a kind face, and beneath the scruffy exterior I saw a kindred spirit. And he had invited me to Lallybroch.

Lallybroch. I could almost see it in my mind now- countryside covered in fields of green, kissed with flower meadows and cover of heather against forests of Hawthorn and Black Elder. I could see the Elm trees as their branches carve out pieces of the sky, old and stately against a sky of blue. Old stone walls molded with ancient hands leading the way to- 

“Will meet us after you wrap up? Just one drink!” Joe interjected, filing away the last of the day’s paperwork and grabbing his jacket.

I shook my head, “I’d be lousy company tonight. I’ve just enough energy to make it to my flat and not much more. Tomorrow’s a long day. With the festival it’s gonna be madness around here.”

“Come on LJ, we’ll save your favorite seat for ya.” He said with a grin, and before he turned to leave he paused and shot me a wink.

The thought of a good stiff drink did sound tempting.

Perhaps just for one.

____________

Jamie

Would they ever be ready?

They had scrubbed the floors, walls, doorknobs, and every other surface visible to the eye. They sanitized and rewashed all of the pot stills. Everything was shiny, yet the wear and work of 300 years shown on every surface of the home. Lallybroch.

Jenny had laundered the linens in the tasting room and picked fresh heather and thistle, cleaned the vases and rubbed down every wooden surface with oil for a rustic shine. While Jamie and Murtagh worked the pubs and negotiated with distributors, his sister Jenny was the beating heart of Lallybroch, and that included the Distillery.

Every bottle was accounted for, every nook and cranny scanned and evaluated. While Jamie had put in an honest effort to help, Jenny promptly sent him to the stables. Hospitality was her passion- horses were his. It was best he put his hands to work doing something requiring little concentration- his mind had been wandering again recently.

His fingers knew every curve and texture of the leather, had it memorized like the back of his hand. While his hands did their work, his mind ventured to the last interaction they had. The look on her face as she left, she had wanted to stay. He could have sworn to that. He had seen the corners of her mouth fall as that pager sounded, was it regret? It had been a few weeks and he had gone back more than once, but had not seen her again.

What’s the harm in one more night, just in case? 

“Have the colts been groomed yet?”

“Not just yet, Alec, just finishing up these saddles now.” Jamie muttered over his shoulder. While he couldn’t guess how many people would show up, the horses were always a favorite and he wanted to be ready should anyone want a quick ride around the fields or wooded trails nearby. 

Time was ticking, the Gatherin’ was tomorrow.

____________

His weight hit the stool with full force. A solid month of work had culminated in one final afternoon of errands around Edinburgh. Broch Mordha was on the way back to Lallybroch so he parked the van, fed the meter and made his way down the cobble street to the soft glow of the pub.

Murtagh had called to say Jenny needed him for some last minute repairs on some broken shutter boards on the converted shed, and far be it from anyone to say no to Jenny. Looks like he was drinking alone- not that he didn’t relish a bit of solitude tonight. Tomorrow there would be no rest- better take it now in any shape he could, and the most appealing option was staring at him through bottles twinkling against the exposed red brick behind the bartender. 

He sipped his glass slowly, letting each drop pull at his tongue, allowing the tingling sensation to linger. His eyes lost focus on his glass as the liquid slid down the back of his throat, enhancing the spicy notes in the aftertaste.

He was just starting to feel the haze creep in when a pair of voices cut through his trance.

“I doubt she’ll show- she looked like she was hardly standin’ up. Look her spot’s taken anyways.”

Jamie closed his eyes an let out a small sigh as he inched his seat to right to make room, closer to the corner. He had heard the inflection in the stranger’s voice as he annunciated those last few words, but he’d be damned if he gave up the stool to a lassie who wasn’t even there.

“LJ is a stubborn one that’s for sure. OK grab me a pint, I’ll be right back.”

Jamie’s eye shot open- he had heard that voice before. For six months that deep, velvety sound played over in his head, mixed with a higher pitched voice, laced with a distinctly British cadence. His eyes darted around the room, with every movement his heartbeat quickened. An initial scan caused his heart to sink slightly, no sign of those brown curls or whisky eyes. Jamie sat up slightly straighter on his stool- hm, this one finally felt like it had softened a bit- and shifted his weight carefully, a hair’s breadth closer to the figure reclaiming the seat next to him.

Scattered thoughts danced across his mind in quick succession. So many questions formed simultaneously. He steadied himself with a few deep, slow breaths and then turned to the figure to his right.

Six months was long enough, it was time to for some answers.

____________

Claire

I thought I’d never get home. After a final check of the interns and consulting with the nursing staff, an unexpected code on the fourth floor sent me into action as the last fibers of my sanity pulled at the seams.

Just a few more minutes, Beauchamp.

After resuscitating the patient and reviewing next steps with both medical staff and briefing the family, I checked my watch. Bloody hell, it was quarter to midnight.

Sorry Joe… next time.

Finally feeling the fresh air on my face I felt momentarily invigorated, just enough to quicken my step and put a few feet between myself and the hospital. After all, I’d be back there soon enough. By the time I reached my flat, I was feeling calmer and more centered than I had in days. If I ever had a day off, I needed to find more fresh air and less concrete and made a mental note to scout a few day hikes when I got home. No- tomorrow. Tonight was for sleeping and I was late getting to my bed.

Turning the final corner to my building, I saw a familiar figure sitting on the wooden bench beside the security door.

“Lady Jane- got a minute?”

____________

“Joe! Are you OK? Is Gail OK?” I said, running over to him- scanning for signs of injury, turning over each of his hands in a quick yet steady, methodical manner.

“I’m fine LJ. Really.” He said, a sly smile threatening to form.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here? Don’t make me worry like that!” I said, dropping his hand a bit sterner than I intended.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you- honest.”

“It’s alright, but REALLY- what are you doing here? It’s late and I have to be up for the early shift.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said with a small smile forming.

“I don’t think I know what you mean…” I looked at him in confusion, I could feel the crease between my eyebrows form. The smile crept up his face until his full mega-Watt smile shone bright. “What the bloody hell are you playing at Joe, because I don’t have time-“

“Claire. You are not working tomorrow, I am.”

Hearing my name out of his mouth stopped me in my tracks. He never called me by my name- only when it was important. I stared at him, taking in his words- trying but still not fully comprehending them. He was taking my shift…

“But… why? Joe you and Gail had plans this weekend with the Beltane festival…” I trailed off, still not understanding.

Joe sighed; he seemed to be mulling something over, because he settled on, “Because you deserve a day off. No one works harder than you, and no one deserves something good more than you- OK?”

Without another word, his arms were around me in a bear hug, I could feel his smile on my forehead as he gave it a light peck and released me.

“Goodnight Lady Jane, try to have some fun tomorrow, OK?” His eyes were hiding something- that much I knew. As he turned to leave he stopped and said, “I hear there’s a celebration in the Highlands tomorrow, some place called ‘Lallybroch’- might be worth checking out.”

And with that, he was gone.

What the bloody hell- how did he know that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gathering, and with it- a few more familiar faces.

JAMIE

He had intended on being there to greet the visitors and offer tours around the grounds, but Jenny had relegated that task to his brother in law Ian, sensing Jamie would be of better use restocking the whisky barrels and checking the stables. While he was plenty capable, Ian’s limp limited his ability to efficiently move the heavy boxes and shift the horses around as visitors culminated. There was a minor setback with the pot still demonstration, sending Ian to investigate- leaving Murtagh to face the newcomers.

Please man, dinna scare away the customers.

___________

Claire

“Ye made it, lass,” I turned my head to see an unkempt beard and bushy eyebrows, all but hiding gentle green eyes.

“Murtagh!” I said, with genuine delight in my voice.

My arms were around his neck before he saw me move and staggered back a bit. “Och, lass. Dinna need to make a fuss over me.” He shrugged, trying to regain his gruff exterior, though I caught a glimpse of a smile as he turned and muttered, “Tis a fine day for a tasting. Did ye get yerself a good pour?”

“Oh not yet, I’ve just been admiring the stonework and archway. It’s quite stunning.”

“There’s a great many things to see here, but let’s get you past the gate first, aye?” And with that, a calloused hand lightly pressed against my shoulder and led me through the entryway into Lallybroch.

It was just as I had imagined it- a sturdy stone house with a steep face at the front and multiple chimneys set along the slate roof line. A light mist had coated the stone walkway and the morning fog was starting to lift, with hints of sun peeking through the rising clouds.

I slowly made my way from the courtyard to the main house- the doors were open for the visitors to tour. My feet took each worn granite step slowly; each movement forward seemed to thrust me back in time. When I reached the final slab, I paused- taking in the smell of lavender and fresh baked bread. My stomach rumbled- had I forgotten to eat this morning?

The smell lured me forward but as I stepped towards the threshold, a sound caught my attention- a wind chime hanging from the doorway of a small shed. I turned to see a stone building that appeared white washed with both wind and rain. A small chime made of forks and spoons intertwined with copper pipes seemed to answer my gaze. 

Ah yes, the tasting room.

___________

Jamie

He’d spent the morning stocking and restocking the whisky bottles, organizing them by vintage and tallying the number of tasting glasses on hand. With a final sweep of the floor, he saw his cousin shuffle through the door, hair tousled, shirt rumpled, and a bit bleary-eyed. Jamie handed him the broom and with a few steps out the door he muttered, “Glad to see ye finally made it ye wee dolt.” He didn’t stop as he heard some utterance of Gaelic curse behind him.

Time to check on the horses and see if Alec needed help.

___________

Claire

A dozen or so steps from the main house and I was in the converted space- what had perhaps been an oversized chicken coop or calving barn was now a neat little bar with a half dozen wooden stools propped up neatly in a row. Fresh linens dotted the few tables inside, topped with painted blue vases filled with fresh thistle and heather. A few stray sprigs were strewn delicately against the window sills, lightly kissing the glass panes. It was intimate, welcoming, and utter perfection.

I stepped up to the bar and glanced at the simple collection of bottles, recognizing the flagship vintage on display at Broch Mordha.

My eyes lingered on the bottle as a short-statured man with a beard and two missing teeth caught my gaze and asked “Something catch yer eye there, lass?”

“Erm, yes- thank you. I wasn’t quite sure where to begin. Is there an order to the bottles for the tasting?”

“Oh aye, we normally start with the 10 year, it’s a good light-bodied whisky with a fruity finish. Most lassies fancy it.”

I hadn’t missed the way he emphasized lassies, but I was curious as to the taste so I smiled and nodded. “Thanks…”

“Angus. But I’ve had lasses less fair than you call me much worse and havena minded.” He said with a wink that forced a laugh to escape despite my efforts. 

At first taste it was light and had a trace of gooseberry, followed by cleansing citrus notes accompanied by a gentle tingling sensation just at the tip of my tongue. As I swallowed, the subtle notes of what must be jasmine and honey followed and ended with a touch of ginger. It was exquisite.

“I see that the rain has let up some, have ye had a chance to check the fillies?” he asked, grabbing the second bottle and eying my nearly empty glass.

“Stables? I didn’t realize this place kept horses.” I emptied my glass and handed it to him, enjoying the last few moments of lightness.

“Och, aye. Here lass, take this and head on up to the barn, ye’ll no be disappointed,” he gestured as he handed me my glass, this time a darker amber and a healthier pour. “Follow that footpath to right past the grist mill, stables are atop a small hill- can’t miss it.”

I grabbed my glass and raised it to him in a toast, sliding off the stool and making my way to the door. “Thank you for the whisky.”

“Think nothing of it lass.” He said with a wink, grabbing a bottle and taking a swig straight from the bottle.

As I reached the doorway I was met with another thick beard, though this one was younger, with a round belly and jovial smile on his face. “Good day to ye lass, headin’ to the stables are ye?”

“Yes I was just about to, are you the owner?” I asked, half out of curiosity as this figure looked only slightly more put together than the bartender.

“Och no, just another Mackenzie around here helpin’ out- family, ye ken. Name’s Rupert. Dinna stay away too long or this wee dobber will fill his pie hole til he’s gone wi’ drink and there’s none left for the rest of us.”

“Erm, yes will do. Nice to meet you too, I’m Claire.” And with that, I set off towards the hill, a mix of what could only be Gaelic insults erupting behind me.

The stables were modest but immaculate, every square inch had a purpose and was masterfully used. The bridles and saddles shown like new, and the smell of fresh hay filled my nostrils and accompanied the smoky flavor of the whisky. I entered from the back of the stables, whisky in hand. My free hand slowly traced the wood boards neatly lining each stall. The horses made small sounds as I approached each new stall- ears perking towards me, likely looking for treats. Seeing that I had none, they returned to their naps.

I stopped in front of a small chestnut brown filly, she was petite and had a kindness in her eyes as she seemed to nod at me in acknowledgement-Brimstone… well that sounds ominous. I lingered, resting my elbows against the top board, letting my weight shift, and for the first time in months I felt that calm. Joe had been right, I needed this. And in this moment I stopped thinking about my shift, the work I should have been doing. Instead, I filled my lungs with fresh Highland air as I took another sip and felt the warm tingle on my tongue. I smiled to myself let my eyes close slowly, savoring every note of the lingering almond aftertaste.

“Claire.”

That voice.

I had heard it in my head every day for the past six months, though I had never heard that Scottish lilt to my name, slowly caressing each letter of my name.

I slowly opened my eyes and turned around, half afraid I had heard a voice that wasn’t there.

But this time I had not been dreaming. The figure in front of me was tall, with wide-set shoulders and that same mop of red hair, curls framing his sea blue eyes. His gaze pierced through me, unflinching.

I stood there, unblinking. He was here. But… how? Questions swirled around my head as I tried to comprehend what I was seeing. The depth of his stare silenced them… at least momentarily.

I felt my heartbeat quicken. His eyes, still locked on my face, flickered to my mouth as I tried to find my breath, gasping slightly. The right corner of his mouth curled into a shy half smile as a slight flush colored the flesh stretched against his cheekbones. He looked almost unsure- infinitesimally unsteady but utterly perfect.

Christ he was beautiful.

I felt my own cheeks radiated heat as a smile slowly pulled across my face until I felt the emotion reach my eyes. The rosy haze from the whisky was gone, replaced with a far more intoxicating sensation.

The silence between us was charged with anticipation.

The pulsing heat emanating off of his body hit my own with a force that tightened the muscles just south of my stomach. My breathing hitched and I felt the electricity between us grow. His face was showing restraint but he feet slowly moved towards me, a reflexive pull like a spring tightening after being stretched for too long.

With each careful movement of his, I felt a heady mix of relief and building expectation. 

In a final step he was in front of me. A quick movement at his side forced my eyes to flicker for just a brief moment as I saw his fingers rhythmically twitching. He paused, letting out a breath and set his shoulders in determination.

One arm gently rose, carefully finding my hip slid around my side and settled at the small of my back, the heat from his fingertips forcing a small sigh to escape my lips. It was just as I remembered- strong, warm, safe. His other hand nestled into the curls as he cradled my head- gentle yet firm. His lips hovered only a hair’s breadth from mine as his eyes found mine and he paused. My own hand had trailed up his arms and traced the lines of his muscle before finding the curve of his neck against his collarbone as the other traced the line of his cheekbone and paused under his ear, cupping his face.

His eyes were hooded but through his auburn lashes I saw raw need, carefully restrained but he was losing his grip. “ I—“ he started, before sighing and whispering, “I would verra much like to kiss you. May I?”

His voice sent a sensation down my spine and raised gooseflesh on the back of my neck. My eyes did not waiver as I stared back and exhaled, “Yes.”

I felt his warm breath on my cheek as his face closed in on my own. My eyes closed as he brought my lips to his. There was hesitation as our lips met, but the warmth as they touched set off a wave of heat and my lips parted and I felt his tongue gently caress mine. I pulled him tighter as the pulsing current flowed between us. I moved instinctively with every shift of his body. Our hips pressed tightly together, his legs parted just enough for me to step into him and deepen the kiss. His hands traveled up and down the length of my back as my hand tightened around his curls. We were one flesh, in sync as the ebb and flow of energy took over.

Feeling flush and almost faint, I pulled away- gasping for breath. My eyes were still locked shut-savoring the lingering sensation of his tongue on mine, his lips warm and soft. A million thoughts were scattered in my head but the most important one screamed out and I peeked through my lashes and just met his gaze, still held tight in each other’s arms.

His eyes shifted to concern as they searched mine. I took one final moment before I spoke, breaking the spell between us. He had consumed my every thought for the last six months; his touch had all but lingered on my skin. The lines of his face were etched into my heart yet he was a stranger- still nameless to me.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Jamie… Jamie Fraser.”

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gathering, continued.

Jamie

A deliberate cough behind him broke their trance. Unwilling to put space between them, Jamie kept his hands firm as he turned his head enough to see his uncle behind him.

“Jenny sent me here lookin’ for ye- Ian needs help with the post still. Said I’m no’ fit for it.” He said with a dismissive scoff.

Jamie stood silent, eyes shifting down and then slowly closed. He could still taste the whisky from her tongue, the touch lingering. His fingertips memorized the soft curves of her hips as he pulled her closer. He bent his head slightly, foreheads lightly touching as he felt her head tilt slightly, her nose lightly grazing his. He slowly opened his eyes to meet hers- drinking in the angles of her face as he let out a small sigh.

“Dinna want Jenny marchin’ up here to find ye, aye?” Murtagh’s tone was matter of fact, but beneath his words there was a thinly veiled warning.

No, he dinna want Jenny comin’ to find him here- with Claire.

He nodded as Murtagh turned to grab the pitchfork and bent his head in concentration as he shuffled to the mounds of hay at the back corner of the stable. He remained silent, but Jamie knew his proximity was not a coincidence; it was time to part with the lass.

“Claire...” he started, pausing at her name, marveling at the novelty of saying it aloud and seeing the flicker in her eye as his voice hit her chest. He was unable to find the right words. “I’m sorry lass, I—“

_I dinna want to leave ye._

A less than subtle shuffling sound behind him forced his next words. “I must part wi’ ye now.” His hand cupped her face as he searched it for an answer, thought he hadn’t asked a question.

“O-Of course, I should …” her words trailed off.

“Will ye stay?” his words came fast and pressing.

_Please dinna leave._

“Jamie…” she said as she paused to let out a sigh, her face drawing back from his as her body tensed slightly.

His name on her lips, said with that soft British lull, pierced his heart and his lips again found hers with urgency. It was a chaste kiss, but just under the surface there were traces of fear and excitement. He reluctantly pulled his face away from her, eyes alight with a look of new resolve.

“Please lass, please say ye’ll stay.” His face was set with determination as he smiled and finished, “Please, _Claire._ ”

She stared at him, her thumb lightly caressing his cheek as her posture softened once more. “Ok,” was all she said. But her smile matched his as her arms fell to her side, her fingers slowly trailing down the lines of his arms. The sensation warmed his skin as his own hands tightened around her briefly. As he stepped back to leave, he stopped to bow his head, and then turned and left without another word or look.

He let out a small hum from deep within his chest and strode down the hill with renewed purpose.

_Claire._

___________

Claire

_Jamie. His name was Jamie._

I was frozen in place, unsure I could move, even if I should wish it. _What had just happened?_

The man I had spent over six months conjuring up in my head; the face I could trace from memory and voice that hummed low in my hear at night, the touch that had roused my body and voice that left me breathless. He was _real._ He was _here_. And he was a stranger no more. _Jamie._

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep the last drops of warmth from his body against mine. The haze of the whisky was gone and I suddenly felt chilled. A rustling from the corner reminded me that I was not alone and my cheeks flushed red. _Oh god, what had he just witnessed?_

“I see ye finally met my nephew, aye?” He did not look at me but I could hear the smile in his voice, sounding amused.

_His nephew? So… the Distillery? Lallybroch was his home?_

“Erm... yes it would seem so.” My mind was reeling with more questions than I could register as I looked around for something to balance on- settling for the wood post of Brimstone’s stall. A few deep breaths and head shakes later, I looked back at Murtagh- now eying me with humor. My eyes pleaded for answers, and his returned the look with a wink.

“Ye’ll be needin’ some food I reckon. Better head on down to the main house and feed yerself before Rupert finishes it off.”

Food. Yes. That was the logical thing to do- fresh air to clear the mind and food to settle the churning waves of anxiety deep inside my belly.

“Looks like ye need more whisky as well,” he added with a nod to my glass and turned back to his chores.

_What the bloody hell._

Still somewhat disoriented but free of the walls of the stables, I meandered down the hill, taking in the crisp Highland air. My eyes wandered from the dirt footpath to the worn and worked landscape, a mix of sweeping green hills and stone buildings that seemed to merge into the hillside with the trees and heather surrounding it.

___________

Jamie

He tended to the repairs as quickly as he could; she had said she would stay, but he didn’t mean to linger too long before he could find her again. He had so much he wanted to say. As he tightened the final screws in the repaired drip of the still, he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to catch a glimpse of her, walking through the main courtyard towards the house, his house. The sight of her caught his breath and he stood motionless, unblinking. A swirl of childhood memories played before him and the figures seemed to dance around her as she took the final steps into the house.

 _A Dhia,_ he had lived his whole life here but to look at her amidst his memories, she seemed a more natural figure in the courtyard than the old stone wall and foundation to the house itself.

___________

Claire

The bannocks were hearty yet slightly flaky in the center; the fresh raspberry preserves all but melted in my mouth. It left me with a delectably full sensation and I felt the energy return as my eyes wandered from the dining room to the hallway. The house wore the telltale signs of age- cracks in the stone and wood warped by use could be seen throughout the house. The room was lined with dark wood and wallpaper, no doubt a nod to the heritage. In the foyer, a grand wood archway framed the view of a stone hearth. It was May but the fire was crackling and a comforting glow simmered.

Through another hallway was the kitchen- a mix of old furniture and new appliances intermingled with an eclectic charm. A short, brown-haired woman with a confident smile was showing a few children how to knead small pockets of dough and was explaining the function of the old stone hearth to make bread.

I let myself linger in the study; a few books were strewn about an old coffee table- whispering to be read. I set down my glass and grabbed the top one- a tattered and well-worn copy of _The Letters of Robert Burns_. I needed a moment to relax before I was ready to face him again. My thoughts had wandered to every scenario for what would happen and more than a few made me blush. I could still feel his breath on my lip as he said my name. How could I leave without knowing what this was? I took a sip of the fresh refill and caught notes of a certain spice I couldn’t quite name as it teased my tongue. I settled into an oversized chair in the corner, opened the book and let myself wander to a world unknown.

___________

Jamie

He finished the last of the stable chores and had locked the tasting room doors. Purple streaks were just trickling up from the horizon as the sun sank further into the tree line. The visitors were finally heading back down the dirt road towards town, leaving Lallybroch in its quiet contentment once more.

He rushed inside, eyes anxiously darting from room to room, moving with impressive pace.

“Where’s the fire, brother?” Jenny called from behind him, eyebrows raised in a mix of amusement and irritation.

“Och, are there any visitors left here?” He had wanted to press further, but didn’t want to raise her suspicions. There was a proper time for that conversation, but this was not it.

“Aye. All have long since left save one- a lass. She’s in the study. Been there for hours. Ian was just about to see her out,” She said with a nod of the head down the hall.

He slowed his step slightly, taking a few moments to smooth out his shirt and run his hand through his hair. He had touched her and knew her to be real. She said she would stay. A few slow, deep breaths did little to settle the nerves that solidly pulsed through his veins, and his fingers twitched involuntarily at his side. He made his way to the door, the solid oak staring back at him.

Just open the door man. _She’s here._

One final breath and his hand was on the doorknob.

His eyes scanned the room and stopped as they caught the figure in the corner. A book still in her hand, he paused before entering, taking in her sleeping form. Her legs were tucked in and nestled underneath her, with one against the armrest and her hand cradling her cheek. He stepped softly but the old wooden floorboard moaned underneath him and her eyes flickered open.

Her arms stretched as a small yawn escaped her lips as she blinked twice slowly, her head turning towards the door, looking for the noise and then her eyes widen. “Hi,” she said shyly.

“Good _mornin’_ to ye, Sassenach.” His tone was in jest but his heart skipped a beat as the last word escaped his lips.

“I must have ... dozed off,” she said, a bit embarrassed.

“Och, dinna fash. Ye only missed Murtagh’s sword dance in the courtyard.” The smile he had been holding in cracked and a laugh in his chest escaped, lighting up his face.

“I’m truly sorry to have missed that.” She quipped, her body relaxing as she let out her own giggle, and her smile lit up her eyes. As the silence hung in the air between them, it recoiled slightly as her tone changed. “Jamie, I have… questions.”

“I suppose ye do, Sassenach.” _Of course she had questions,_ he had time to prepare for seeing her today- she had not. While he had not known for sure if he would see her, he had the hope of it for a full day before she appeared in the stables. “I have a few of my own, as well.”

He stepped carefully, sliding into the chair next to her, perching on the edge of the seat.

“Jamie- what’s takin’ ye so long? Is the lass gone?” Jenny’s voice called from just beyond the door, footsteps approaching with the usual quick tempo.

_Please not now._

Jenny came through the door with a flourish, scanning the room and the two occupying it. Her eyes shifted between the two, seated side by side. It was almost imperceptible, but he caught the distinctive twitch of her brow as she gestured at the door, “Thank ye for yer patronage miss. It looks like ye had a good day here at Lallybroch, we sure do hope ye return again.” Her tone was polite but forceful, she meant to be turning the house down for the night and wouldn’t be interfered upon by anyone, not tonight.

“Oh, yes thank you. This is a lovely house and I truly enjoyed the whisky.” His eyes saw her face drop as she registered Jenny’s tone as well. A nod from Jenny and she was out the door as quickly as she came in.

Claire sighed as she shifted to free her legs and stand up, gently placing the book on the table.

_No. Please not yet._

“Can ye see fit to stay a bit longer?” Despite his efforts, he could feel the hope peeking through as his eyes lingered on her face.

“I really should get going...” she said in a tone that hinted at disappointment. Jamie caught the slight hesitation in her voice and seized it.

“Not even for a birthday dram?” he said through a smile as he tried for a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birthday celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 seems to be having issues with formatting. As I am able to I will try to insert more of the italics.. I didn't realize I was so fond of using it until I had to try to reformat it so many times to get it to work! Alas, I did not want to delay getting this chapter out so please enjoy!

Claire

The table was sprinkled with candlelight and vases of fresh flowers. The glassware sparkled and the room held a warm glow. Jamie led me through the hallway to the dining room, lightly placing his hand on the small of my back. The pulsing sensation in my stomach strengthened as I leaned closer to him, elongating the point of contact as my arm grazed his side. A small hum rumbled in his chest as his thumb stroked the skin under my blouse.

Jamie held out a chair for me and then took the seat next to it at the end of the table. We were cocooned in the corner of the room, with the glow of the hearth lighting his hair like a sparked matchstick. His right leg pressed into mine and I shifted slightly in my seat, trying to absorb the wave of heat that pooled low in my belly. My eyes shifted to my left and I saw a small smile peeking back at me.

The table was set for seven, and to my surprise a few familiar faces took their places at the table. I smiled openly as Murtagh sat directly across from Jamie, with Rupert and Angus shuffling in beside him. Jenny and Ian took their seats at their respective ends, a warmth shown in their gaze despite the distance.

Conversation shifted from the success of the Gathering to plans for an expanded distillery and tasting room. With so many jubilant voices chiming in with enthusiasm, it was difficult to carry on an intimate conversation so I relaxed and relished the savory food and exquisite whisky within arm’s reach.

Each course of food brought with it more whisky and another round of banter. After finishing the most recent offering, I leaned forward for the open bottle, topping off our glasses. As I sat back in my seat I felt something warm and solid behind me in the form of Jamie’s arm. My eyes glanced in his direction but he did not meet my gaze, he simply smiled and took a sip of the amber liquid.

A silent intimacy formed between us, small movements that spoke volumes. Jamie’s hand had begun tracing small circles on my back as he tightened his arm around my chair. He smelled of oak and barley from the distillery but there was a faint trace of honey and almond from the whisky on his lips. I leaned in slightly, eager for more, and my left hand grazed his thigh and let it linger there. Words were not needed as our bodies moved effortlessly together in a slow and lingering dance.

As the last of the food was cleared, Rupert mumbled something to Angus about heading back into town and a girl at a pub he had eyed; Murtagh shook his head yet offered them a lift. Ian was clearing the table and Jenny was orchestrating the kitchen work.

“Fancy another dram, Sassenach?” His voice was low in my ear.

He had called me that more than once, and while I knew the term- and what it meant- it had never sounded so _endearing,_ so _intimate._ His breath on my neck sent a chill down my spine and I shuddered slightly.

__“Perhaps one more,” I said with a small smile. I felt warm and content; the night felt easy and comfortable, as though this were one of a thousand nights I’d spent in this house, with these people. My little orphan heart felt like I actually started to belong here._ _

__He pulled my chair out for me and his hand gently took mine. His fingers laced between mine, and I caught his eyes as they settled on our hands for a moment before nodding and pulling me gently forward._ _

__He led me past the entryway and through the front door. A dozen or so steps and we made our way to the tasting room._ _

__“Is it OK for us to go in?” I asked, looking around._ _

__“Aye, after all, it’s _my_ whisky.” He said with a smirk. He unlocked the door, pocketed his keys, and with a wave of the hand he gestured for me to go in. He flicked on the single row of lights behind the bar, illuminating the bottles and glasses but left the others off. There was just enough light for us to find the stools lined up neatly and I took a seat._ _

__The lightly dimmed room caught the slant of his cheekbones- echoes of a Viking that seemed to be a Fraser trait—and I lost myself in the curves of his skin._ _

__My very own Scottish Highlander_. _

__He snuck behind the bar to pull a hidden bottle from behind the counter. I recognized the label immediately- it was the same bottle I had seen at Broch Mordha. I smiled as my finger traced the familiar faded blue flag, the paper rippled under it._ _

__“I’ve seen this bottle before,” I offered quietly, smiling at the memory._ _

__“Oh aye?” he asked, sliding around the bar to take the seat on my left._ _

__“Mmhm. A few weeks ago, the night your chest ran into my face,” I said with a smirk, allowing my eyes to linger on his hands as he pulled the cork from the bottle. Strong fingers, a broad palm and muscular forearm gracefully lifted the bottle and the amber liquid splashed into two glasses._ _

__He pushed one to me as he raised an eyebrow, catching my gaze. “Hm. Well I seem to remember it a bit differently, ye ken.”_ _

__“And how’s _that_ ?” teasing him, feeling suddenly very brave._ _

__“Oh aye- Ye came through the door sae fast, yer thick head thumped me in the chest,” he replied as he chuckled, his accent slightly thicker._ _

__“If you say so you bloomin’… _Scot_ ,” I said, trying for indignation but failed, a giggle erupting from my chest._ _

__“Slainte,” he said through his laugh as he raised his glass to me._ _

__“Happy birthday, Jamie.”_ _

__I had meant it with every fiber of my being. Of all the places he could be and all the people he could celebrate with, he was _here_ , with _me._ _ _

__I smiled back at him as our eyes met. The brevity of the moment suddenly gone, my eyes held his gaze. Our hands found each other, fingers lightly entwined, his thumb slowly drawing patterns on the back of my hand._ _

____

___________

Jamie

He could die happy in this moment. This creature next to him, she was so foreign yet familiar. He felt more himself in these quiet moments with her than he ever had. The pulse from her thumb on his skin matched his own- content yet alert with heat.

His eyes searched hers as his lips turned up at the corners, “Thank ye for stayin,’ Sassenach.”

She seemed surprised at his admission as she simply smiled and nodded, her fingers tightening slightly around his. He said nothing for a moment, allowing the heat to emanate from his chest to her fingertips.

He gently took his glass and raised it to hers, glasses touching just slightly as they each took a sip. He watched her for a moment, catching the small flutter of her eyes as the whisky lingered in her mouth. A small purr escaped her throat as she seemed to enjoy the tingling sensation. Her eyes caught a glimpse of his gaze as she set her glass down, intent on his face. Her fair skin flushed—whether it was from the whisky or heat of his gaze, he didn’t know or care. Her whisky eyes matched the liquid in both their glasses. He could spend a lifetime lost in those eyes.

Feeling the urgency to speak while he still had control, he placed his glass carefully on the wooded bar top, looking at her in earnest.

“Now I ken ye had questions, and I’ve a few myself. We dinna ken one another so well… yet,” he added, with a tinge of hope. “There may be things ye dinna or canna say to me, and I’ll no ask ye more than ye care to tell.”

She said nothing, but nodded. It was enough for him to continue.

“There may be room between us for secrets, but no for lies, aye?”

___________

Claire

 _Secrets, but no lies._

My mind traveled back to what now felt like a shattered past- shards of happy moments cut by broken promises and flashes of blonde tangled up in bedsheet, arms wrapped around...

 _No, I would not allow anything to take me from this moment- especially not HIM._

“I agree.”

___________

Jamie

He thought he caught a flash of pain in her eyes, but she nodded and agreed so he took her at her word. No lies.

“So, ye may be wonderin’ how I came to know yer name, aye?”

“Yes, you would be right.” Her smile curled to one side, a hint of teasing. It spurred him to continue.

“Well, ye see I was at Broch Mordha last night, enjoyin’ a glass of whisky when I came to see a familiar face- or rather, hear a familiar voice.” He paused, waiting.

She leaned in, eyes intent on his. After a beat of silence, she rolled her eyes, “… _And_ ?”

Smiling at her reaction he continued, “I had seen ye there about six months back with the same lad… last night I kent him name- Joe.” He paused and took a sip from his glass, his eyes scanning hers for a glimmer of recognition.

“You saw _Joe_ … at _Broch Mordha_ ?” She shook her head and closed her eyes, letting a small sigh escape. “I was supposed to meet him last night, but a patient coded and…” she trailed off, still looking down at her glass.

“Aye, so he said. He remembered the first time we met- said he’d never kent ye as the flustered type,” he added, taking another sip for courage.

“Oh _did_ he?” her eyes were intent and her cheeks were beginning to flush again.

“He did. He told me ye seemed a bit fashed for the last several months- that ye fancied yerself my barstool- likely for the same reason, too.”

“And what, pray tell, was _your_ reason?”

“To watch the door should ye ever walk through it again,” he said simply with a small smile. His eyes locked on hers, truth and vulnerability shining through.

“Oh… I see,” was all she offered but her hand tightened around his as she leaned forward.

“And what _else_ did he have to say?” she asked. Her tone shifted as her lips hovered against his, head cocking slightly.

“I-I…dinna ken,” he breathed and his lips met hers, slowly molding to hers and inhaling the smell of _his_ whisky on her breath. His hand was in her curls and her hand grasped for his arm to steady herself. She leaned into him as her hands pulled up to find his neck, fingertips digging in slightly as she sighed with a breath. His hands were on her back, tracing the line up to the nape of her neck and down to the small of her back. His hands explored every curve as his mouth lingered and pulled, craving more.

His lips parted with hers as he drew back enough to take a breath, feeling her lower lip quiver just lightly against his cheek as she leaned in and placed one final kiss in the hollow of his neck under his ear. Her eyes were hooded in dark brown lashes against her ivory cheeks, lightly painted pink with the heat of the kiss. As she pulled back she teetered slightly, and a small hiccup escaped her lips and she let out a giggle.

He wanted her more than he needed air, but the night had caught up to them both- from her stare he dared to hope that she willing, but she wasn’t just any girl-a random stranger he found at the bar. Not just a pretty face. His Da had said _when ye ken, ye KEN_ , and in this moment had had no doubt. She was worth waiting for.

 _She was his very own Sassenach._

“Come lass, let’s get ye inside,” he sighed in resignation. “It’s late and yer no fit to drive tonight. We’ve plenty of spare rooms for such occasions.” He held his hand out to her and she took it, swaying as her foot caught the leg of the stool and she stumbled into his chest.

“Well _this_ is familiar,” she said as a fit of laughter escaped her. Her arms were around his waist and her head was nestled into his chest before he could blink, feeling her smile against him.

“As ye say, Sassenach,” he said as one hand cupped her head, holding it close and the other trailed down her back and pressed her firmly close to him, his cheek leaning against her curls.

They stood there, unmoving, drinking in each other’s warmth and the pulsing beat of their hearts matched each other’s and for a few moments they were one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after can bring a nasty hangover.

CLAIRE

Small streams of light flickered against my eyelids and I pressed them closer together, trying to push away the sensation of morning. My fingers contracted slightly, searching for something familiar in my surroundings. My left hand felt a warm pulse under it, resting on something coarse and solid. I moved my hand slightly and felt a jawline form, and as a low hum vibrated against my cheek as I felt myself press closer to a firm figure. Arms around me held me close.

 _Jamie._

I risked opening my eyes slightly and saw red stubble lining his cheek from jawline to cheekbone, with the curve of his lips set in a small smile.

Flashes of the night danced before my eyes- two whisky glasses on the bar, my cheek against his chest- my arms around his waist. Our fingers linked as he led me through the courtyard. I closed my eyes as I remembered pausing at the steps to the house- one step above him, taking his face in my hands and his arms locked around me. My eyes opened slowly again and I took in the rest of his form. His hair was tussled and a few curls fell just at his eyes. He was wearing the same shirt from last night and I felt the seam of his jeans against my leg. I let out a small sigh of relief- _I was still in my clothes as well._

Taking stock of the rest of my surroundings, my head shifted to see a simple wooden table next to me, with a small lamp and framed photo, somewhat aged by time and faded by the sun. Blue eyes and Viking cheekbones were framed by dark brown hair- _his mother, perhaps_? A dresser lined the adjacent wall, lined with a few photos of his family and a little wooden carving of some kind. There were nicks in the wood that showed its age but also gave it character; it belonged in this well-loved home. A few shelves above it held emptied and old whisky bottles of various sizes and colors.

My sweater was draped over the arm of a chair in the corner with what looked like my keys and phone, next to a wide-paned window overlooking the courtyard, framed by linen curtains. The room was simple, clean, and looked like Jamie. 

I reluctantly untangled my legs from his and slowly shifted as not to wake him. He murmured something softly and his eyebrows pressed together but did not wake. My feet gently touched the floor and found a plush rug, I let my feet revel in the soft sensation before I carefully stood up, bracing the bed slightly. I took one last moment to take in his face and I smiled to myself.

_Oh Beauchamp, you’re in deep._

I stepped softly over to the chair for my things and as I grabbed my sweater, a trace of auburn material caught my eye. My fingers reached for the fabric, my vision blurring slightly as I felt tears threaten. Neat rows of knitted wool turned over in my hand as I searched for a familiar marking- my fingers tracing the familiar “CEB.”

_He had my scarf. This whole time._

I held it close to my chest, smiling as I remembered the many hours practicing the stitches, working and reworking various sections until perfect. One of the few possessions I had always kept with me and once I lost it, had thought this was lost to me forever. I wrapped it around my neck, smelling the faint scent of oak and honey- _Jamie had worn this scarf or at the very least kept it close to him_. I crept over to the bed, risking one soft kiss on his cheek before turning to the door, needing to splash some water on my face and assess myself in a mirror.

My feet stepped carefully on the cold, well-worn wood flooring. I was halfway down the hallway when I heard voices in a nearby room, low but intent.

“It’s no right, that’s all I’m saying.” I paused, hearing Jenny’s voice.

“Ye dinna ken what happened last night, might be nothin’,” Ian’s voice countered.

“Ye saw them together and ken as well as I do- _somethin’_ happened.”

“Aye, like moths to a flame. But still, Janet, it’s no yer place.”

“Jamie’s got no business bringin’ a lass here while he’s still got one in the city.”

Ian’s voice answered but I couldn’t hear him- my thoughts circled around the last words Jenny said- _there is someone else._

My heart was pounding in my ears. What had been a flutter in my chest was now a piercing pain that shot down to my fingertips, now tingling and numb. I looked back in the direction of Jamie’s room- a sweet sanctuary just moments ago but now my heart burned at the thought of taking another step. In one swift moment, a wave swept my world away and it crashed upon the rocks of a distant shoreline. Fragmented pieces of every touch and look lay broken as I closed my eyes and tried for a breath. 

I couldn’t find air. This feeling in the pit of my stomach- this was all too familiar.

_I thought he would be different._

I thought there was something between us, something _unusual_. I felt it when he touched me, when his eyes met mine.

_You’re a fucking fool, Beauchamp._

I staggered back slightly as my hip caught the corner of a small table, knocking over a picture frame. My hands found the wall as I looked to my right and saw a staircase.

_I need to get out of here._

___________

JAMIE

His arms were empty. He opened his eyes slowly, his hand searching the space next to him. It was still warm, and he could still smell a trace of lavender.

_Claire._

He closed his eyes again, let out a lazy yawn, and felt a smile spread across his lips as images of last night formed in his mind. His hand guiding hers into the house and up the stairs towards the spare room; the sound of her tired yet giddy voice as she asked to see his instead. The tingling of his lips as she rose to kiss them softly. The feel of her form between his arms as he held her tight as she slept. It had taken every fiber in his being not to take her then and there, instead he had pulled her closer and kissed her forehead as her eyes closed and she drifted into oblivion.

He heard a sound in the hallway, a small thud and then footsteps down the stairs. He rose and with three steps he looked out the window, his heart dropped in his chest as he caught sight of her as she reached the archway. Her face turned towards the house -

_A Dhia, she was crying._

___________

By the time he made it down the stairs and through the courtyard she was gone. He stared down the road for a few moments before he could force himself to look away. Trudging up the steps, Jenny was standing at the mule post, waiting with a hand on her hip.

“What happened? What did ye say to her?” Jamie’s eyes were level and fixed on his sister, voice controlled.

“It’s no polite to be lingerin’ about listenin’ in on two people-“

“DAMNIT. JANET. What did ye say?” His voice slipped, anger palpable.

Jenny put her other hand on her hip and squared her shoulders. “Oh so it’s my fault then, aye? The lass runs into the table, breaks a frame, about splinters the door slammin’ it shut behind her. But it’s _my fault,_ brother?”

“Janet,” he started, calming his voice just enough to register in his sister’s face. “What did she hear ye say?”

Jenny stood still, unmoving. Her head was cocked to the side slightly and her eyes were set on Jamie’s face.

“Jenny. _Please_.” He finally exhaled, letting out the breath he’d been holding in.

She blinked twice more and then sighed, “It’s no right for ye to have a lass here while ye still wrapped up with another one in the city.”

“ARE YE DAFT, WOMAN!?” His anger was back, spiking so quickly his vision flickered and his heart was beating fiercely in his ears. “I’m no with any other lass and ye ken it!”

“Yer gonna stand there and lie to my face, brother?”

“Three months ago ye practically forced me out with a lass- I gave it one date. Dinna ever speak to her again.”

“Why didn’t ye _tell me_ , brother? For the last six months ye ha’ been movin’ about like a ghost in yer own life. Ye needed _something_ to make ye whole again.”

“I didna wanna speak of it, Jenny. I spent six months trying to find her… she was the ghost, ye ken. Finally kent who she was and now she’s gone again, thinkin-” he couldn’t finish the thought. Claire, his Claire, had left thinking he was a rutting bastard.

“I...” Jenny started, her voice low and unusually soft, “I-I’m sorry, brother. Truly. Didna mean to take yer happiness from ye.”

He could count the number of times he heard those words from his sister’s lips- she did not make amends easily and rarely admitted defeat. His shoulders sagged as he nodded his head and opened his arms enough for Jenny to step into them.

His thoughts were scattered but slowly came into focus as he conjured up her face in his mind- _he needed to find Claire_.

At least this time, he knew where to look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of moments with those who love Jamie and Claire most.

Jamie

He had rushed back to his flat but now found himself taking more time than necessary- shuffling from room to room before settling on a shower. He let the water fall on his neck, feeling each muscle slowly relax. His head hung forward, a trail of water cascading down his curls against his forehead. His eyes were unfocused, seeing the last images of her before they fell asleep.

Her hand was on his cheek, one finger lingered at the base of his neck feeling his pulse. Her eyes were a deep amber and intent, looking straight into his soul. His hand rested on her hip, finding bare skin, his fingers traced circles as he watched her lashes flutter at his touch. He had pulled her close; his hand traveled the curve down her back and found solace there- noses gently grazing as her lips met his softly. His life had come full circle in that moment- every hope he had ever had was answered by her touch.

_He needed to see her._

The steam circled him as it swallowed him whole.

___________

Checking his phone as he grabbed his keys, he took one last deep breath before closing the door behind him.

The hospital was close enough to walk, and he was thankful for it as he needed fresh air and just a few more moments to clear his head and gather his thoughts- trying for the right words that Claire could understand to be true.

All these months, she was so close. He had scoured half the city for her and she was just a mere four blocks away. Joe has specifically said the Western General Hospital. He just hoped she was on duty.

_Please be there._

___________

He rounded the final corner and the imposing building came into view. It was an impressive light grey building with freshly planted trees along a walkway boarded by tulips. Any other day he would have lingered and taken in the speckling of color against the dark concrete - but not today. He made his way to Reception and as his eyes scanned the room his eyes caught a familiar face. _Joe._

Jamie had taken no more than two steps in his direction as he saw Joe pick up his pace towards him. Jamie’s smile fell as he took in Joe’s expression. Eyes open and intent, shoulders tense, and mouth set in a firm line.

“Joe, it’s so good to se-“

“You’ve got some nerve coming here.” His voice cut Jamie’s remaining hope as he stopped in his tracks.

“I think ye-“

“Don’t Jamie, just DON’T. I never should’ve told LJ about Lallybroch. I just- I thought you were _different._ But you’re not. You’re just like _him_ ,” he finished, with an edge to his voice that lingered like venom.

“Joe, I know how this looks- truly. But if ye jus-“

“NO. _You_ listen. She’s been through a lot- she’s played this role before. Some dashing fella comes along, sweeps her off her feet. Makes promises he can’t keep and she finds him with his arms around another girl.”

Joe paused, watching him closely. Jamie’s eyes widened, taking in his words, feeling his heart tighten, all but flinching in pain.

_Christ, someone hurt her._

_His Claire._

_No._

_She was not his Claire._

He stayed quiet, eyes locked on the floor, head slowly nodding- listening. 

“You’ll not put her through that- she can’t _take it_ again. That almost broke her.” He was breathing hard, chest heaving as he postured against Jamie’s towering form.

Jamie stayed quiet. His thoughts skipped from one thought to the next.

_She’s been hurt._

_Someone hurt her._

_She thought I was different._

_That bastard had his chance, and he squandered it._

_I might have ruined it before it could even start._

_I may be no different after all._

A final deep breath and he steeled himself as he lifted his head to meet Joe’s stare. “I’m sorry Joe, truly. I dinna want to hurt Claire. I’ll be leavin’ now.”

And with that, he nodded his head, eyes locked on Joe and without a word he turned and walked away.

___________

CLAIRE

_Two more hours. Then I can go home. Then I can crawl into bed and forget this weekend ever happened._

I closed my eyes, allowing my head to drop forward as I slowly rolled my head to one side, massaging my neck with my hand- in a flash I saw red hair against my neck, curls lightly tickling my skin as his fingers traced the line from my jaw to collarbone-

_Get it together, Beauchamp._

“Lady Jane.”

I jumped as I heard Joe’s voice coming towards me, his eyes wide.

“Joe? What’s wrong?”

He looked me over for a moment before he exhaled, shook his head and spoke. “Well you don’t have to worry about seeing him again.”

“Wait, what? What do you…” My eyes focused on his, seeing his pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, and I caught the distinct hitch in his breath as he tried to steady it. “… He’s here?”

“He had the nerve to come here, thinking he could talk his way into seeing you. Spin his words and twist what you heard. Well I am not gonna sit here and let _another man_ talk his way out of the sack of shit he deserves to be under.” 

My mind raced as I tried to find focus.

_He’s here?_

_No._

_He’s gone._

Memories of slick dark hair and a thin-lipped smile crept into my thoughts- that self-assured voice weaving lie after beautiful lie. No.

_I can’t go through that again._

___________

Jamie

He let the car sit in idle for a while before he turned the key to kill the ignition. The drum of the rain on the roof was almost enough to drown out his thoughts. Almost.

He saw a familiar figure in the window looking out, and with a heavy sigh he grabbed his keys, ready to go inside. Jenny would be worried.

“Back sae soon?” She said, her voice carefully avoiding the name in his mind. And he was grateful for it.

“Aye. Tis done,” was all he could muster in response. His arms hung at his side as he stared down at the wooden floorboards.

She caught the slight twitch of his shoulders and the small gasp of breath as his head fell, arms pulled tight against himself. Before he could speak again her arms were around him, and they stood together, her hands keeping him whole.

_It felt like an endless day with no night._

___________

His fingers trailed down the pattern on the glass, the amber liquid creating ripples as he took another sip, seeing flickers from the fire radiate in his glass. Jenny eyed him, seeing his arms loosen as he shook his head and emptied the glass.

“Another?” she asked, but had already moved to lift the bottle.

“Aye.” His eyes did not leave his glass. The moment the bottle left his vision he took another long drag.

“Brother… _James_ ,” she said as his eyes lifted to meet hers. She rarely called him that, save special occasions and when she spoke words close to her heart.

“It’s over, Jenny.” Another long swig and then silence.

“Did ye see her, then?”

“Och, no. Her friend. He said enough.” Eyes lingered on the fire, unblinking.

“She kens the truth then, aye?” Her eyes searched his face.

“It doesna matter Jenny.” He closed his eyes, recalling the last image of her at Lallybroch, just a dozen feet away. Hair blown wild with wind, flushed cheeks, and tears in her eyes. “She’s been hurt enough. No use in tryin’ to be something that’ll bring her more pain.”

“Yer no makin’ a lick of sense,” she sighed, trying for indifference but he caught a hint of frustration.

“She thinks I hurt her- the way another man did, near broke her apart,” he said, eyes hooded.

“But ye did no such thing Jamie.”

“Aye, but she deserves better than me Jenny, I’m no monk and I havena done anything to prove I’m worthy.”

“Hush now, brother. Ye may no’ be a saint but ye’ve a good heart and any lass would be lucky to find ye.” Her words came fast and true, her eyes glistening in the firelight. “Get some rest now, or ye’ll be of no use tomorrow,” she finished, a look of determination on her face.

The flames finally faded from his vision as he saw nothing but whisky eyes, and the last thing he remembered before succumbing to sleep was the curl of her smile as his fingers traced the curve of her chin and his lips met hers.

___________

Claire

_When will the rain finally stop?_

I pulled my coat closer as I reached the final few steps of the hospital entry way, quickening my steps to find shelter under the concrete canopy.

“Claire?”

I froze. Her voice did not match that tone. Normally steady and confident, she now sounded unsettled and unsure.

Slowly turning around, I saw dark brown hair and deep blue eyes staring at me.

“…Jenny? What are you doing here?” I blinked twice, trying to perceive the look on her face- eyebrows furrowed; a crease had formed between them that aged her considerably. “Is everything ok?”

“No one has taken ill, but there’s a peace I need to speak to ye, and it canna wait.” Her eyes shifted with a glimmer of determination.

“O-Of course. Let me just make a quick call and then I’ll be with you, ok?”

_What on earth could Jenny have to say to me after what happened?_

My hands fumbled for my phone in my pocket and I dialed Joe’s number. I just needed 5 minutes and I’d meet him for rounds and this whole sordid mess would be over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A truth between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has not been rated as I wasn't sure where the story would take me. Please be advised, this chapter is somewhat explicit and NSFW. 
> 
> If you do not wish to read the full chapter, please let me know and I will try to get you a "cleaner" copy so you can continue to enjoy the story.

CLAIRE

_Please be home._

___________

 

JAMIE

_Fucking rain._

His feet dodged puddles as water sprayed up from the sidewalk. He normally did not mind the rain, but the slight hum of it bouncing off cars as they passed and the sound of tires spraying remnants of watery potholes up onto the sidewalk clouded his mind and the circle of thoughts continued.

A quick shower did nothing to distract him. The look on Claire’s face as she left Lallybroch- tears streaming down her cheeks and eyes that were so broken. Joe’s bitterness as he spoke about him. Jenny’s admission that she was wrong- the sorrow written on her face. His thoughts lingered as he dressed and made his way to the liquor cabinet.

_Something stronger might work._

The liquid had just hit his glass as he heard a soft knock at the door. He took a quick sip before setting it on the table and made his way towards the door, opening it without looking.

“ _Jamie_.”

His eyes darted to the sound of his name.

_That voice. ___

__He did not move- could not move. His eyes were locked on ivory skin, dark curls dripping with rain, and wide whisky eyes. He swallowed hard, the wet fabric of her blouse just visible under her jacket as droplets trickled down her neck._ _

__“…May I come in?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, breaking their gaze as her eyes lowered to her hands, a thumb pressing into her palm._ _

__“Aye,” was all he could manage as he stepped aside, making room for her to pass by. She stepped slowly, each movement careful and hesitant. She looked as tense as he felt. “Need a whisky?”_ _

__“Y-Yes, please. Thank you.” Her eyes stayed on him as she took a seat on the couch, peeling off her coat and holding it against her chest. He grabbed a second glass and lifted the bottle to match his. He stepped close enough to hand her the glass; as he reached for her coat, his hand grazed her skin and he paused- their eyes focused on the singular contact- neither breathing nor moving. Her eyes broke first as she took a sip of the whisky and shuttered slightly. “This is very good, thank you.”_ _

__He took a seat next to her, glass in hand. “Claire…” his lips twitched at the sound of her name and he fought back hope as he continued, “what are ye doin’ here?”_ _

__“Jenny came to see me today at the hospital,” she paused before taking another sip._ _

__“Aye?” He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, and he hoped his tone was ambivalent enough to spur a response. It worked._ _

__“Yes. She told me… the _truth_.” Her voice was low- almost a whisper and it shook a bit as she turned to face him. “You said there was room for secrets, but not lies.”_ _

__His eyes traced the lines of her face as she spoke. One large breath before he nodded, “Aye- a truth between us.” He took a swig from his glass and let the liquid sit on his tongue, but this time the tingling sensation was not from the whisky, but rather the memory of her tongue._ _

__“Jamie…,” her voice was steady but her face belied the truth, and her brows furrowed as her lips set in a slight frown, “is there anyone else?”_ _

___Christ, she was beautiful._ _ _

__“No, _mo nighean donn._ There’s no one else- only you,” His lips curled again and this time he didn’t fight the pull of his cheek as the smile settled, nestled to one side._ _

__She paused momentarily, head cocking slightly, but she sighed, “I believe you.” The line between her brows eased slightly before her face tensed again. “I need to tell you about… _him_.”_ _

___________

__CLAIRE_ _

__“Claire,” he interjected, putting his hand up to stop me, “ye dinna need to tell me now. I ken how things must’ve looked at Lallybroch and I canna apologize enough for it.” His hand lowered, finding mine, fingers intertwining with ease. The touch sent a pulse of heat through my chest and he paused before he continued. “I swear to ye, ye never need to explain yer reasons to me- they’re yers and ye have a right to them.”_ _

__I felt my shoulders sink in relief. Needing a moment of courage, I took a generous swig from my glass and set it on the table. Taking a final moment to calm my nerves, I lifted my eyes to meet his, feeling my cheeks flush._ _

__He tentatively raised his hand to my face, thumb skimming my cheek as his fingers lightly resting under my ear, slowly nestling into the curls at the back of my neck. He leaned in slightly, the smell of whisky on his breath, almond and honey lingering between us. I breathed in the scent as his eyes gazed down to my lip, catching the slight quiver as I tilted my head slightly, in question._ _

__His breath hitched as he dragged his eyes back to mine. “I would verra much like to kiss you.” His eyes were intense with need. “May I?”_ _

__His words hung in the air between us; the hum of his voice reverberated in my chest and dipped lowered, lingering below my belly. My eyes felt the sting of tears form and I smiled, whispering, “Yes.”_ _

__Without any hesitation his other hand released mine and reached for the back of my neck. My forehead pressed against his as our lips found each other. My hands reached for his arms, feeling the lean muscles under my fingers as I steadied myself. My mouth opened and I felt the heat of his tongue on mine, exploring my mouth at a deliciously slow pace._ _

__Without pausing, one arm circled under my hip, traveling over the round of my ass and along the back of my thigh. His hand tightened as he moved to stand, bringing me with him in his arms, one leg wrapped around his waist- the other hitched just south. He turned and took us down the hallway to his bedroom._ _

___________

__He gently placed me back on my feet as his hands wandered to the hemline of my shirt, eager but restrained. My fingers pulled at his shirt and we parted just long enough to shed them both. I paused, eyes shyly meeting his, his face flushed and transfixed. I lowered my gaze, allowing my eyes to drift from his neck to his shoulders and down his solid chest; they lingered to his taut stomach, lines of muscle evident even in the dimly lit room._ _

__“Are ye nervous, Sassenach?” His hand reached for mine and took it, softly pulling me closer._ _

__“I suppose I am-” I paused, closing the gap with one last step, “-but I want this Jamie. I want _you_.”_ _

__His face lit with a smile that took my breath away. He led me to the bed, gently laying me down as he tugged off my jeans before discarding his own. My eyes traveled the length of his body- long, lean lines with muscle carved like stone. He took a few deep breaths, his eyes scanning my body as he shifted to the bed. His form crawled towards me, hands meeting my skin just above the knee and sliding up my thighs, eyes focused on mine. He gently lowered himself against me, his skin warm and smooth. His hand caressed my neck and his thumb traced the line of my collarbone. Though his eyes were half-hooded they were alight with wonder. I linked my arms around his neck and pulled him to me, the smile on my face matching his own._ _

__Strong, warm fingertips made slow, rhythmic circles on my thigh as they inched upwards, meandering and slightly pressing into my skin. His tongue traveled from my neck to my collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses in its wake. My stomach tightened and muscles clenched, feeling the heat between my legs spread with a pulsing urgency._ _

__His mouth found my breasts, a wet trail around each nipple, gooseflesh forming as they hardened under the intense heat of his mouth and shocking cool air. My back arched and his hand slid under the small of my back, cupping my hip as his curls danced across my skin, his breath against my ribs. His fingers pressed deeper into my skin, causing a moan so slip from my throat. I could feel a smile form against my naval as his tongue flicked and lingered at the base of my inner thigh._ _

__I was lost in sea of sensation, my hands entangled in his curls as he moaned slightly, fingers moving deftly across my skin, pressing and circling until I could not tell where I ended and he began. I felt the pressure build in my belly and as it pulsed outward into my chest, I gasped, “Jamie… Please- Jamie, I want… need…”_ _

__My thoughts were scattered as my hands grasped his shoulders, urging him upwards._ _

__I felt a smile against my stomach as he placed small kisses and moved upwards. His hand lightly touched the soft skin against my ribcage, grazed my breasts, and finally rested against my cheek._ _

__“Mo chridhe…I need ye, and I canna be gentle about it-” His voice was almost shaking as he stopped and stared down at me. It took all my remaining strength to focus on his face. He lowered his head for one last kiss before I felt his hand graze my thigh as he lifted my hips and thrust home._ _

__I gasped as I felt his full movement inside of me, his curls spilling over his face, eyes locked on me. My fingers dug into his back as he carried a steady pace, each thrust an answer, an ache healed. Every inch of skin felt the burning heat of his against mine. His lips hovered above mine, his forehead pressed to mine as the rhythm quickened. I felt the convulsions start deep within, sending a ripple to every limb. I felt myself reach the edge, my hands grasped for his shoulders as my fingers dug into his skin, pulsing hot like an ember. My eyes locked shut as the sensation took over._ _

__“Sassenach- look at me-” he said through ragged breaths, “ _I need to see ye_.”_ _

__My eyes shot open, meeting his stare. The pool of deep blue threatened to pull me under but I held his gaze as a final thrust sent us both into oblivion. Our breath entangled between us, we succumbed and as we slipped into ecstasy, the last thing that registered was his voice as he whispered, “ _Claire_.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 seeems to be having configuration issues again so, try as I might, I am not able to format as I'd like. Alas, please enjoy!

Jamie

His arms tightened and felt the form next to him, he exhaled in quiet relief. Dark curls rested against his cheek. He slowly opened his eyes to see a deep curve sweep from her hip to her waist. Her hand was intertwined with his and he tightened his grip slightly, his thumb lightly stroking her fingers. Slivers of light trickled through the curtains, the moonlight tracing patterns on her ivory skin. He pulled her closer as a small sound of contentment escaped from her chest.

His cheek brushed against her shoulder as he placed a light kiss against her skin, causing her to stir slightly. He could see her dark lashes fluttering and her head turned slightly with another low hum as she caught a glimpse of his face.

“Hi,” she said somewhat shyly as she shifted onto her back, contouring her body to him. The line of skin touched from chest to thigh; he felt the heated pulse through him as he stared into her face, flushed from sleep and utterly content.

“Mmphm,” was all he could respond, a smile curled at the side of his mouth until it spread to his other cheek.

“Erm…” Her eyes glanced down as her cheeks took on a rosy hue. She met his eyes again as she finished, “have I been asleep long? I’m sorry-”

“Dinna fash Sassenach, I’m just comin’ to, myself.” His eyes softened as one hand traced the line of her collarbone and let it linger at her shoulder. “Besides, I thought I’d blacked out finally havin’ ye back in my arms again.”

A small squeak escaped through her lips as she held her hand to her mouth but it did little to stop the sound.

“Are ye laughin’ at me?” he asked, a chuckle of his own slipping into his voice.

“Yes… yes I think I am,” she said as she shook her head and tried for a deep breath. “So, you’ve been thinking about that since I last saw you?” her voice was soft but laced with amusement.

“Aye, last time I woke up to empty arms,” he said, the smile fading from his eyes, a sharp pain flickered at the memory.

The last time he had seen her she had been crying, thinking him a bastard.

“Jamie, I-“ she sighed, eyes glancing down to his hand as she took it. “I’m sorry I left so suddenly. I heard Jenny and- and I…”

“Och, not another word about it, lass. Yer here now and ye ken the truth. Nothing more to say on it.” He felt the pang in his chest soften as her hand squeezed his. He smiled as he pulled her closer, her cheek against his chest. 

___________

Claire

His skin was warm and solid under my cheek, his breathing steady. I closed my eyes for a moment and felt every inch of skin melt into mine. One hand leisurely wandered along the lines of his chest down to his stomach, drawing mindless circles as I counted the beats to his heart as it reverberated against my skin. His shoulders were wide- much wider than I had remembered and the lines of muscle wrapped around them made his frame more imposing still. I was safe in his arms, and that knowledge steadied myself enough to continue.

“Jamie… the last few days have been just… “ I trailed off, small vignettes playing in my mind- limbs tangled together in contentment, driving back to Edinburgh through a wall of tears, emptiness and confusion at the hospital. “You deserve to know what happened.”

His fingers traced circles on my arm as he nodded, “as ye say.”

“That morning… I wasn’t trying to overhear, honestly. I was in the hallway and the tone of her voice, it stopped me in my tracks. I felt frozen in place as I heard her mention… um… someone in the city…” I looked down at our hands intertwined and shifted slightly as I felt his eyes on me.

 

He held his gaze, but I felt them shift slightly as he pondered something, settling on a head nod and trailed one of his fingers across my knuckle. Two fingers drummed lightly on my hand and he took a deep breath, pausing before exhaling. I could see the thoughts forming in his mind, and a trace of sadness crept into his eyes.

“I saw ye leave, Sassenach.”

I knew he had- I had seen the flash of red hair vanish from his window in an instant and knew he was coming after me. I couldn’t have faced him in that moment- I had panicked and needed space. And now, here in his arms, I could barely lift my face to meet his eye. A mix of fear and shame flooded my senses; I had run before he could tell me the truth.

I felt his hand on my chin as he gently raised my chin to meet his face. He said nothing, but let his hand skim down my cheek to the side of my neck as it lingered south to find my hand again. His eyes were soft, urging me to continue.

My eyes broke from our stare as my hand broke our contact and I smoothed out a wrinkle in the sheet, unable to look at him, “I saw you see me.”

“I was confused, upset, heart-“ I stopped, my breath hitching. His deep blue eyes gazed at me, unassuming. “H-Heartbroken,” I finished as I tried to steady my breath. I felt another stroke of his finger against my skin as I let out the breath I had been holding. 

“I told Joe… I was so scared that I was right back to where I was a year ago… with him.” My muscles tensed as I closed my eyes and tried for a few more deep breaths. I felt a hand gently cup my head, fingers slowly massaging as I heard a low hum of Gaelic.

“Lass,” he said, almost a whisper. “Joe told me ye were broken,” his voice was quiet and his eyes were in a trance looking down at the sheets.

“For a long time it’s been just me. My parents died when I was little…” the words were coming faster now as the dam I had built up around my heart cracked at the tender touch of his eyes on mine.

“A-And then I met Joe, we went through school together and he’s been my only family for a long time,” I felt a small smile form and then it fell, “and then two years ago I met… him.” I felt my chin start to tremble as I took another breath to steady myself.

“I had given all I was to him, he had asked me to drop out of med school, travel with him for research and such. I even bloody considered it. Then one day I came home early to find clothing strewn about- he was in bed with my friend… or I suppose- she used to be my friend.” I shook my head, trying to erase the memory.

“My little world has been pretty solitary. I survive by not letting people in, save a few precious souls. And then I met you and… you were different. From the moment I met you it was like…” I paused, searching for the words. “It was like… you were the most certain thing I’d ever known in my entire life… I barely knew you yet when you touched me, my world … it just… it made sense. I had all but given up hope of ever finding it but that night- with you… it felt like home.”

Jamie’s hand met my chin gently tipped my head to meet his stare. His thumb skimmed my cheek as his lips gently met mine. He asked nothing of me in that kiss- it was a kiss of confirmation, and he was steady in that moment, allowing his warmth to fill me completely. 

Reluctantly pulling my lips from him, I look back and him and finished, “I was afraid it was all going to completely fall apart after that morning at Lallybroch.”

“Claire…” the concern in his voice was palpable, his arms around me held me firm, but he didn’t seem to find the words he was looking for, eyes still focused on my face.

“I need to tell Joe what really happened or he’ll be spitting red next time he sees you,” I finished, trying for humor but instead my voice sounded weak.

Jamie’s laugh reassured me as he nodded his head, “Och aye- Joe is a good friend. He wasna about to let me anywhere near ye, no’ in one piece at least.”

I inched closer to him, eager for his heat to wash over me as his words hummed against my chest.

“Jenny- she’s the same way- as ye well ken,” his voice was kind, but a tone of something deeper lingered. “She’s the closest thing I’ve had to a mother for a long time, it was no’ easy for her to raise me as my sister- she wasna much older than me at the time, ye ken. She means well but she gets a bit- stubborn.” He said it with love but I caught the raise of his brow as he said it and I did my best to stifle a laugh.

Stubborn. Well, that was one word for it.

I paused before speaking, remembering her face as she told me the same words, in her brusque lighter pitched voice but the same sentiment was there.

Jamie was an orphan, like me.

“She said as much to me, when she came to the hospital.”

Jamie’s eyebrow furrowed as he took in my words, “Oh? Ye didna tell me what she said.”

“She said that you two are so similar you sometimes can’t see the forest through the trees. That she could see what it was between us the night of your birthday, and she thought you’d forsaken yer honor for a night with me,” I said, trying my best to replicate her Scottish accent.

He coughed lightly trying to hide a chuckle.

“Oh aye, I canna fault her observation on that, Sassenach. For I woulda done worse than that having seen ye again.” His face lit into a full smile, trying for a wink, but it resulted in an endearingly a long blink.

I feigned shock but felt my pulse quicken at the thought.

“The night we met- ye remember?” he asked, tightening his arm around me as I settled in closer.

“At Broch Mordha, I was there with some other students celebrating. I may have overindulged slightly.”

“Aye, ye looked so bonny in that silk shirt, curls round yer face and rosy cheeks.” He raised one finger to trace the line of my jaw as he smiled, “After seein’ ye that night, I went lookin’ for ye. I kent ye worked at a hospital but no’ which one. So I ran to them all.”

“You did not!” I asked, incredulous. There were at least a dozen hospitals dotted around the city- had he really spent all that time looking for me?

“Och, yes well- we Frasers are a stubborn clan lassie, ye ken,” he said with another long blink.

I felt my cheeks flush and a slight shiver down my spine, the touch of his skin was immediate against mine- warm like an ember and it flooded my senses. My eyes caught the soft glow of dawn creeping through the window, and I felt a yawn escape my lips.

No, not yet.

“Ye should sleep now, lass.”

I was too settled and content to answer with more than a nod, feeling the ache in my limbs slowly wash away with each deep, slow breath.

He leaned down slightly to kiss me. It was soft, warm, and tender, a movement as natural as breathing. His lips met my forehead once more, gingerly, as he tucked my head against his chest under his chin, arms resting around me strong and firm. Our bodies danced to a delicate rhythm as we both settled into bliss.

“Mo nighean donn?” his voice was soft against my forehead.

“Mmhmm?”

“Are ye busy this weekend?” his voice was low, and tinged with hope.

“I… I think I can get a day or two off,” I felt the slow pull of sleep dragging me under.

“Can I take ye somewhere? Saturday perhaps?”

“I… I’d like that,” I said, and exhaled as I mumbled, “Jamie.. what’s ‘mo nighean donn’ mean?”

A deep hum against my cheek answered as he cupped my cheek and whispered, “I’ll tell ye one day, lass. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	14. Chapter 13

Claire

It was finally Friday, but the minutes ticked by slowly.

_Just a few more hours._

I had picked up two extra shifts in order to take the weekend off. Two in a row- this was not usual and I called in every favor I could think of to make sure I had forty eight hours of uninterrupted time with Jamie. He hadn’t said where we were going or what we were doing. It was a surprise.

I could feel the ache creeping up from my feet to my knees as I moved from room to room, a quick but methodic pace despite the fatigue. Just a few more patients and I could walk out the door and would be gone for the weekend.

A final turn of the wrist and I smiled as I saw the time looking back at me- five o’clock on the dot. I exhaled in relief as I made my way to the nurse’s station for shift change.

I was no more than two steps from the concrete canopy as I heard a faint but distinct whistle from behind me. I smiled to myself as I slowed my pace. That tone of voice had been in my head for the past four days. Two more steps and I felt warm fingertips graze my hand and intertwine with mine. 

“You’re early,” I could barely contain the smile from my voice as I closed my fingers around his.

“Aye, Murtagh wasna so pleased with my driving, but I wanted to be here to see ye home,” his pulled back on my hand and I stopped, turning to take in his full form. Heart-stopping smile, broad shoulders, eyes clearer- bluer- than I had remembered.

_My god, he was a beautiful sight._

He lifted his other hand to my face and lightly swept away a stray curl, tucking it behind my ear and letting his fingers sink into my hair. He leaned down and paused, taking a breath to search my face before his lips met mine. I leaned into the warmth, my arm wrapped around his waist, my fingers pressed into his shirt at the line of his jeans, feeling a whisper of skin under my fingertips.

His hand released mine his large arms wrap around the small of my back, pulling me closer to him. I could feel the hard outlines of his defined torso on mine. Jamie smelled of honey, almond and linen- a most peculiar combination, but I could taste the remnants of the work day’s tasting on his lips. He was as intoxicating as the first night we had spent together.

I felt my smile form before our lips had parted. “I’m glad you’re here,” my voice quiet and content.

I had kept busy at the hospital and had little time for anything save sleep but he was never far from my mind. Every touch of a patient’s hand I would feel his fingers, each ring of my phone I had hoped to hear his voice on the other end, the whisper of Sassenach lingering in my ear.

“So am I,” his smile was stretched from one cheek to the other as his eyes hinted at something I couldn’t quite name. My head cocked but before I could respond he finished, “Och so- I dinna mean to sound presumptuous, but… to yer place then?”

I let a chuckle out as I nodded, “I suppose that’ll have to do.”

My pulse quickened with each step; we hadn’t been alone together since that night at his apartment. I wasn’t expecting to see him before tomorrow- he had come back early, and I smiled to myself hoping it had something to do with me.

___________

Jamie

He hadn’t wanted to leave Edinburgh, had he been completely honest he hadn’t wanted to leave that bed. He had fought every urge to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. But he had work to do, plans to put into motion- and Glasgow was where he needed to go to make it happen.

She had consumed his every thought- he saw her eyes in every bottle of whisky and heard the soft hum of her laugh in the heated pot stills. He had heard from her only a handful of times in those few days- all at odd hours as she had picked up extra shifts. They shared only a handful of waking hours this week, and his mind wandered to just what patients she might be treating, who she might be healing with her touch.

He knew he was poor company, and had tried to make an honest effort but Murtagh saw through his feeble attempts at conversation. The moment the final meeting ended he had all but thrown his uncle in the passenger seat and pointed the car west back towards home, towardsClaire.

“What’s the rush, lad?” Murtagh’s brow was cocked and one hand placed firmly on the door frame.

“Och dinna start man, ye ken fine well,” he countered, weaving through traffic towards the M8 and pressed the pedal down farther as he entered the motorway.

“Ye daft fool- it willna do any good if ye land this rig in a ditch before ye see the lass,” he warned, but Jamie caught the distinct tone of genuine concern and he eased off the pedal, but only just slightly.

He was steps away from the staff entrance, and caught the distinct mass of dark brown curls as the wind took hold of a few strands and danced with them as one of her hands reached up to tame them. He took a moment to drink in the sight of her again- the line of her neck down to the shape of her hips as she moved with delicate determination. A smile formed as his lips pressed together and he let out a whistle.

She lived close to the hospital, seven blocks north and east. He lived four blocks south west. All this time, she had been so close. They made their way up the two flights of stairs in silence, charged electricity pulsing between the two of them- focused in the singular contact of their fingertips.

Three steps into the second floor he caught a hesitation in her step and moved towards her without hesitation, pushing her back against the wall. In a single breath, one hand was in her hair and the other wrapped around her, fingers gently but firmly hooked on the curve of her hip. His mouth found hers and her arms wrapped around his neck. Her lips were warmer than he had remembered and her tongue traced his as it searched his mouth. With each movement, he pressed against her in silent rhythm and a slight moan escaped her lips.

Footsteps descending from the steps above them broke their kiss, and with ragged breath he stepped back from her he took in her flushed cheeks and swollen lips- one tucked between her teeth as she squeaked a small giggle. Reluctantly, he exhaled a deep breath and flashed a small smirk, taking her hand once more and gesturing for her to lead the way.

Her flat was clean, an orderly precision to each book and table. The walls were washed in sunlight and a small sprig of thistle and heather leisurely occupied a blue and white vase on her dining room table. His lip twitched as his eyes lingered, remembering the night at Lallybroch- the tasting room had vases just like this one.

His eyes circled back to her form, eyes already focused on him. “Do you want the five cent tour?” Her voice was low and thick with intent.

He swallowed hard and nodded. “As ye say, Sassenach.” He reached for her hand, his breath catching slightly as the electric current pulsed through her fingertip to his skin. She exhaled slowly as she met his gaze, a small smile forming as her eyes glistened. Without a word, she turned and led him down the hallway to her bedroom.

___________

_God, he had missed her._

He stretched his limbs and felt her hand on his chest, making small circles against his skin as her nose brushed against his skin. His lips gently grazed her forehead as he inhaled her scent- faint traces of lavender lingered despite so much time spent in the sterile rooms of the hospital.

“So… is _that_ what you had in mind for tonight?” her voice was relaxed and he caught the hint of a laugh as she sighed and kissed the skin against his ribs.

“Oh aye, I canna lie, I’ve been thinkin’ about that since Tuesday morning. But no, I think there’s just enough daylight left… Do ye have a sturdy pair of boots?”

“Erm… yes I think I do,” her voice cracked as he fought to hide her surprise. “Why? Where exactly are you taking me?”

“Ye’ll see,” a small smile spreading across his face.

___________

Claire

I felt the ache and fatigue of the last week slowly shed with each step. The air was fresh and crisp, I felt light and content as we made our way up the worn path. He had said little about the hike, other than it was not technically a mountain, but a smaller hill called a Graham. The rocks and roots twisted and turned under my feet and I reveled in conquering each obstacle, recalling the game I had played as a child.

“Ye have a way with the terrain, I see,” his eyebrows were raised in observation.

_I wonder if other girls he brought here hadn’t been as interested in hiking as me._

“I was raised by my Uncle Lamb, he traveled on archaeological digs and took me with him. This Graham reminds me of a particular trek we did when I was about ten,” I jumped from one rock to another with flourish and when my eyes met his again his head was nodding in approval.

“A wee billy goat then, aye?” there was both humor and affection in his voice.

“Something like that,” I said with a laugh and took his hand in mine as we kept up the pace.

We walked in a comfortable silence, and my mind wandered back to the night at his apartment. He had disarmed me in every way- I told him about my parents, about Joe, about… I had trusted him with more of my past than almost anyone.

I was wracked with panic at the sudden knowledge of his business trip. I wanted to trust that it had nothing to do with me, that he truly didn’t want to leave- he said I should trust his word that he would stay if he could.

_So I had done just that- trust. Every fiber of my being should have cried out against it- broken trust had all but ruined me before, but now… now I found a quiet calm within me that steadied me amidst the silence between us this week._

“So, how was that work trip?” I tried for a casual tone but the words felt slightly forced and I looked down at the ground, feigning concentration on my footing.

“Och it was good, Murtagh has me speakin’ wi’ all sorts o’ venders and we are lookin’ to expand on a few things,” he said with a shoulder shrug.

“Oh? Like what? Another vintage?” from the little I knew of distilleries, it wasn’t usual to add new products to such a rare and old heritage.

“…Of sorts.” He said as he turned his head to the west, catching the cascade of color across the sky. “The top is just ahead- can ye see fit to pick up the pace? It’s almost sunset and I’d hate for ye to miss the view.”

___________

Jamie

They crested to top of the Graham a few moments later. He slowed his pace as he looked back at her, watching her face as she caught a glimpse of the view.

“Jamie it’s… it’s beautiful,” her eyes scanned the sweeping hills and deep crevices dipping into the loch below. The sun was hovering just above the landscape, a watercolor of blues, purples, and deep reds lining the horizon and fading up into the scattered clouds.

“Aye, ‘tis,” he said, eyes not breaking from hers. Her eyes still transfixed on the skyline, one hand gently tucked under his arm and grazed his back, settling on his hip as she stepped closer to him.

“My Da showed me this place as a bairn. I come up here when I need to think, to clear my head ye ken.”

She tilted her head to meet his gaze, and he let out a deep breath and smiled. Her face was flushed with the hike, and wisps of curls kissed her face as the wind swirled around them.

“Do you bring many people up here?” he could hear the underlying question in her voice as her muscles tensed slightly.

“No, Sassenach. I’ve never brought anyone up here, except you.” Her eyes showed relief as a small smile formed, she brought her other arm around him and pressed her cheek to his chest. He felt a small hum vibrate against his chest as one hand cupped her head, the other secured around her waist.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Jamie,” she said as she tilted her face up to his and pressed her lips against her. Her nose was cold but her lips pulsed with warmth.

“Och ye must be getting’ cold lass, come on let’s head back before we lose the light,” he said as she smiled and tightened her arms around him once more before releasing him and turned back to the footpath.

He paused for a moment, eyes locked on her despite the masterpiece of color splashed across the sky.

_This place, this moment, with her- was perfect._

“ _Tha gaol agam ort_ ,” his voice was low and steady and the words came out as a whisper.

She turned back to see him standing in place, solid as stone with eyes melting into her.

“You coming?” she said with a slight tilt to her head as she laughed. “Come on, I owe you a dram, and I know a good place that has some good whisky,” she laughed as she held her hand out to him, and he took one final breath as his eyes drank in her face.

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date, and a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 seems to be having ongoing formatting issues, sorry for the delay in getting this posted but I hope you enjoy!

CLAIRE

The next several weeks were filled with precious but rare moments together. I had begun working a stint of night shifts- days and nights had subsequently started to blur together. Jamie had been splitting his time between Glasgow and Inverness as they focused their efforts on a new project for the distillery.

It was unusual that we were both awake and in the same city, but those rare days where his work would finish in Edinburgh, even for the briefest of hours, he would come to my flat after work- my door unlocked. Through the depths of sleep I would feel a wave of warmth circle me as arms closed around me tight. Most evenings we shared no more than an hour together, fully dressed with his form curled around me, his face nestled into my neck. Leaving his sleeping form in my bed was the hardest part of each day.

A quick text to say he was home and I would let early morning dawn lead me in the opposite direction of my bed. His building had an extra security door so Jamie had insisted on giving me the key so I could come in without his worrying about sleeping through the door buzzer. Those mornings I would find his sleeping form stretched to every corner of the bed.

There were times when I would wake to hands softly caressing my hips, fingertips trailing up and down the length of my stomach, and his mouth seeking mine. We would come together without words, a silent worship as light crept through the window.

He had found me sleeping with tear-streaked cheeks more than once, and had woken me gently to comfort me. When words failed, he had simply held me- strong arms encompassing me and holding me close while he whispered soft Gaelic into my ear as I let the grief of a lost patient or hard day wash away.

We had gone almost two months without a full day together, save these fleeting moments. I craved to hear his laugh, to see the light catch the auburn in his hair, to see the curve of his cheek as he turned his head. 

“Hey LJ, did you check the schedule for this next rotation?”

“Oh… no I hadn’t,” my hands were furiously scribbling notes and my mind was already shifting to the next stack of papers in front of me.

“You should come take a look.”

“Mmhmm. In a sec,” I could still feel his eyes watching me and I shifted from one foot to the other, trying not to lose focus on my notations.

“…You might actually get to see that man of yours,” the smile was evident in Joe’s voice before I even looked up to catch his wink.

My eyes darted to his as I dropped my pen, shifting around the desk for a better view of the papers posted on the cabinet.

“Don’t make him way too long Lady Jane,” he nudged my elbow as I grabbed for my phone.

___________

JAMIE

It had been a long week, filled with late nights and early mornings. He had been traveled between Glasgow and Lallybroch a handful of times in the past three days alone, and by Thursday afternoon he was a walking shadow of himself. He hadn’t been able to get back to Edinburgh, he had not seen Claire.

His thumb and index finger were pressed tightly against his forehead as he tried to ease the headache that had crept in when he felt his phone vibrate. He checked his watch- she was almost done with her shift. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, his eyes blinked hard as he stared at the screen, and a smile crept from one cheek to the other.

“What’s go’ into ye lad? That’s the first smile I’ve seen all week,” Murtagh winked as one elbow nudged his nephew.

Jamie did not turn his head to meet his uncle’s stare but chuckled and asked, “Can ye manage wi’out me tomorrow?”

He felt Murtagh’s stare linger and as he turned his head slightly, he could see the shift in eyebrows as he nodded. “Make sure ye buy the lass a good dram, aye?”

Jamie’s smile intensified as he nodded and looked back to his phone.

___________

CLAIRE

I took my time getting ready. I had thoroughly scrubbed every inch of the hospital from my body, had tended to each and every tendril and begged forgiveness that they would behave tonight. A slight knock at the door broke my train of thought- “come in Jamie, you know it’s open,” I said with a giggle, he had crept to my bed countless times in the past few months- but not tonight. Tonight was different; it was a first of sorts- Jamie was taking me on our first official dinner date. 

I finished off my eye liner and mascara and took a final moment to take in my form in the mirror. My curls cascaded softly around my shoulders. I had chosen a simple knee-length red dress- cut modestly low with just a touch of lace, it allowed a single silver chain around my neck from Uncle Lamb to nestle just below my collarbones.

Jamie was in the living room, one hand casually holding his whisky glass as he stood near the window looking out into the courtyard. My eyes took in his form- broad shoulders boxed in under a navy sports jacket with the hint of a white button down shirt peeking out at the collar. I let my eyes linger for a moment on the line of his jaw, just visible with his head turned- remembering the last night we were together, my lips against the skin of his neck as his hands held me tight, reaching, wanting. I cleared my throat in an effort to steady my thoughts and his eyes shifted to meet mine.

“A Dhia, Claire,” he paused, blinking twice before he continued, his voice lower and quiet, “yer the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” his eyes were soft but intense. His mouth turned at one corner and a smile formed.

“You don’t look half bad yourself, Fraser,” my cheeks flushed as I smiled back at him. My fingertips ached to touch his skin and I held back for just another moment to take in the sight of him- a highlander in full regalia was an impressive sight.

He met my gaze and in three large, determined steps he met me where I stood.

“I’ve missed ye,” he whispered as he bent his head to my neck, placing a kiss just below my earlobe, sending an electric current across my skin and into my belly. One hand grazed my fingers as it lightly trailed up my arm to my shoulder, nestling just under my cheekbone against my throat. I could smell the apricot from the whisky on his breath, his lips hovering against mine- seeking, asking, needing. His lips met mine as traces of whisky danced on my tongue, one hand lightly tucked under my chin while the other searched for the small of my back, resting firmly in place as I leaned into him.

“Mmm, you taste good,” I said breathlessly as I pulled back just enough to tip my head and see his face. My arms tightened around his waist as I sighed, “I missed you, too.”

___________

The candlelight held a quiet glow above the white linen tables and small vases of heather lined the window sills. We settled into a table in the corner by the window, moonlight peeking out from behind a string of clouds. The contrasting light created shadows against Jamie’s face, slight hollow of skin and strong cheekbone, and formed a tantalizing landscape. My eyes traced the lines of his jaw to his auburn curls, recently clipped yet still slightly tussled.

Two fingers lightly drummed against the table and I smiled- he was nervous. His hands knew my every curve and his arms had protected me against the darkest hours of night. Yet here, face to face in this moment, his eyes flickered from table to window and down to his whisky glass, looking slightly unsure. He was a port in the storm, steadfast and warm. Seeing him slightly undone was disarming, and I felt my heartbeat quicken in response as my hand reached for his, fingertips grazing as his eyes met mine. My skin tingled from his touch and as my breathing hitched, his lip twitched into a small smile.

A movement out of the corner of my eye caused my head to follow and I caught the figure of a man with thin shoulders and short dark hair, his back to me. The cock to his head sent a shudder down my spine. My hand tensed and I heard Jamie’s voice low and alert but I could not hear it through the hum of blood pulsing in my ears. I stared in horror as I saw a petite figure coming towards him, long blonde hair set in contrast against a blue dress and three inch heels- freezing in place as her eyes met mine.

“Are ye ok, Sassenach?” his voice was thick and hit my chest hard as his eyes burned my cheek, “Claire?” 

“Oh god… oh no,” the words came between breaths as a whisper. “Frank.”

___________

JAMIE

Her face was frozen in shock, eyes wide and lips taut. Her hand had tightened around his and he could feel her pulse quicken as she stared at the table across from them.

The ghost that had haunted her for the last year was sitting just across the room, at the table with the wisps of blonde hair that he left her for. His thoughts came fast and matched the quickening of his breath.

Frank.

This is the man. This man hurt her. He hurt Claire. He broke her. He is a coward.

He will never hurt her again.

His eyes shifted back to Claire, not risking a blink. He was ready to strike, to stay-whatever she asked. But she did not move or speak. His hand gripped hers tightly, his thumb grazing her skin lightly as her breathing shallowed. Her face had gone pale but he caught the flush of heat on her chest creeping up to her neck.

He cleared his throat as he gently pulled her hand, forcing her face to meet his. “Come, Sassenach. Let’s get out of here.” His face was etched with concern but he tried for a smile, though it did not meet his eyes.

She swallowed hard, nodding her head slightly and released his hand to grab her coat and purse. He grabbed cash for their drinks and left it on the table. She shifted out of her chair and he pulled her to his side, shielding her from the table as they walked by, taking a brief moment to take in the man’s face- thin lips, gaunt cheeks, and pretentious hair line. Despite his efforts, he felt a scoff escape his lips and he felt her arm tighten as they passed the dark suit and blue dress-relaxing only once they were met with fresh air.

Once they had put a block between themselves and the restaurant, he paused his step, turning to face her. His eyes scanned her face- eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a firm line, tears threatening. His arms stretched around her as her head dropped, shoulder drooping. Her hands pressed into his back, tight and slightly shaking. He cupped her face to his chest as he stroked her back, taking slow deep breaths and recognized her body matching his rhythm.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?” Fingers continued to stroke her back in small indistinguishable patterns.

He heard two more deep sighs before he felt a nod against his chest. “Y-Yes, I… think so.” Her faced tilted to his as she sighed, “I’m sorry this ruined our night.”

“Och, dinna fash yerself. I’m happy right here,” he felt the smile creep back into his voice as he looked down at her, “besides, I dinna like their selection of whisky anyways.”

Her face broke into a smile and a small laugh escaped her, and she nodded.

“Care for a bit of my private stock?” his eyebrow twitched and he pulled back enough to grab his flask from his breast pocket. “Verra rare vintage, ye ken.”

“James Fraser….” She said as she shook her head with another laugh, this time he felt it vibrate against his chest as he handed the flask to her. Her eyes did not leave his as she took a long sip. His eyes watched her mouth as a drop hung on her bottom lip, and his stare followed her tongue as it found the liquid. His mouth sought hers and he felt the tingle of the whisky as his lips met hers. Wind swirled around them as he held her close, tasting his whisky on her tongue.

“Mmmm,” her eyes opened as she leaned back enough to look at him with a smile. “I’m ravenous.”

“So am I,” he tilted his head back to her face, planting small kisses on her cheek towards her earlobe. His lips lightly grazed her skin and she let out a small squeak. “Oh, you meant food,” he sighed in resignation as she nodded with a giggle, and he stepped back enough to slide his fingers from her back to meet her hand.

___________

CLAIRE

Jamie found a food truck a few blocks later, and we walked along the pavement- block after block as we enjoyed the greasy paper-wrapped food, trading bites and taking sips from his flask. After eating our fill, we discarded the remnants and my arm linked in his, grasping for heat as the cool night air set in.

“Are ye cold, Sassenach?” his face showed concern as his arms shifted towards the zipper of his coat.

“Just a wee bit,” I had meant it light-heartedly but his gaze was strong and my words stopped short. I stood staring into gentle blue as his eyes danced across my face.

“I’m sorry for tonight, lass,” his face was solemn as he sighed, “ye deserved a fair nicer meal than take out and an old leather flask.” His gaze dropped to the ground as I caught the rhythmic flicker of his fingers drumming his thigh.

“Jamie..” I paused, unsure of my next words. The university dinner parties and stuffy formalities I had grown accustomed to paled in comparison to the lights of Edinburgh dotting the pavement, the soft glow of Jamie’s curls against the dark summer night. This night- walking the streets of Edinburgh, feeling his warmth next to me, talking casually, stopping for a kiss and ending it in laughter-it was perfect. This night was all that I never knew I always wanted. My hand reached for his chin, tipping his face to meet mine. “I’ve never been happier,” and I meant every word.

A small smile formed at the corner of his mouth and he nodded slowly. One hand took mine as the other pulled me close, settling into the curve of my lower back. I could hear his breathing quicken as his eyes searched mine.

“Sassenach…Claire,” he paused, taking one last deep breath before exhaling and unleashing a beaming smile across his face as he whispered, “I love you.”


	16. Chapter 15

CLAIRE

My finger traced the rim of my glass as I stared into the amber liquid, eyes unfocused as I remembered the last thing I said to him.

“So he’s still in London, huh?” Joe eyed me as he eyed the remnants in his own glass.

“He’s needed to extend his trip for at least another week; he was vague on the details. I’m worried…”

“Why’s that LJ?” his eyebrows creased as he turned his head to face me as he took one final swig, finishing his pint.

I hadn’t realized just how much I needed to talk to Joe until he was gone- a rare summer holiday with Gail for the last three weeks. Now that he was here and listening, I felt the dam crack, and I fought the words as they forced their way out of my mouth. The words stung as I heard them with my own ears.

“B-because he told me he loves me… and I didn’t say it back.”

Joe coughed out the beer he was swallowing as his eyebrow lifted. “Well… shit. That would do it,” he choked out as he wiped the beer from his chin. 

He said nothing more, but I felt Joe’s weight shift on his stool, waiting. I took a few deep breaths and sighed. “I’m scared, Joe.”

It had been two weeks since I had seen Jamie. We had been wrapped in a cocoon that night, wandering the streets, immersed in each other’s stories and weaving ourselves within each other’s movements. Those three words. They had lingered between us on that street corner. His face was unassuming, eyes alight and honest. His voice had been no more than a whisper but his words were steady and sure. 

“Claire…” Joe started, with the tone we use when speaking to a patient in distress- slow, deliberate, calm. “I don’t know the fella the way you do, I don’t know his family or what his favorite whisky is… but I _do_ know he’s different.” I felt the weight of his stare as he took a deep breath, “he’s not like Frank.”

“I _know_ Joe,” I felt my chin quiver and I dropped my gaze from his face to the bar top, “that’s why I’m afraid.” 

His head cocked slightly as he nodded slowly.

“I-I… you know me, Joe. My world is small; I operate best when I’m on my own. The thought of opening my heart to him…”

“It’s a little late for that, though… isn’t it?” His voice was kind as one hand gently rubbed my back.

He was right; he was usually right when it came to these matters. He hadn’t trusted Frank; he had seen the littleness to him that I had not. Every rotation completed, every exam finished- Frank had missed each small milestone during medical school. An _important_ dinner here, a late night of research there- it had all seemed so innocent and reasonable that I hadn’t seen the pattern form. But Joe- he had.

He saw the way Frank’s students fawned after him, the extra tutoring sessions he’d offered after hours. Joe had tried to warn me, and what did I do? I _defended_ the man. I made every excuse for him and in the process almost lost the only family I had chosen.

I took a large sip of the remaining whisky and felt the familiar tingle and hint of almond. The memory of Jamie’s tongue against mine flickered and I closed my eyes, head shaking slightly.

Joe’s shoulder nudged mine as he sighed before saying, “You’ve had a rough go of it, LJ. But you’re tough- the toughest person I know. But…” he paused, tilting his head as I met his gaze, “but with him- with _Jamie_ , maybe you don’t _have_ to be.”

I rested my cheek against his shoulder; I was tired. Twenty-seven years of propelling myself forward, of steeling myself against loss and pain. It all seemed to catch up to me in this moment, and I felt my shoulders sink as I exhaled.

“Can I ask you something?” his deep voiced hummed next to me and hit my ears like velvet.

“Out with it,” I didn’t turn my head or shift.

“Do you love him?”

___________

The whisky did little to dull the ache. The physical distance and lingering words between us felt like a gash in my side. The fresh air outside the pub did little to clear my head. My eyes glanced down the pavement towards my flat, but my feet started in the opposite direction. It was only four blocks, and I had the key. His bed would be empty but I longed to feel any closeness to him I could- to be in the last place we were together.

That night.

His words were not a question, but rather an answer, a benediction. He had asked nothing of me in return, he simply smiled and kissed me. That night he made love to me, slowly, tenderly. Deep blue and whisky amber lost in each other with every movement and breath. His face, _my god his face_ , was heart breakingly beautiful. His heat had encompassed my every thought, movement, every breath.

But tonight, in the dark with his scent lingering on the pillow, the memories of his touch on my skin swirled around me and I wrapped my arms around myself and searched for oblivion.

I awoke to the similar chirp from the window; a morning beam of sunlight warmed my cheek as I slowly opened my eyes, smiling slightly at my surroundings. I was engulfed by the scent of fresh linens and Jamie, my head was clear but the pressure in my chest lingered.

I felt the last shards of my past flittering in the breeze, just barely hanging on.

I blinked twice as my eyes focused on the light from the window.

I was a surgeon. It was time to make the final cut.

___________

The click of my heels on the marble tile echoed off the walls as I made my way to the History Department. The small object in my hand felt hot, an ember burning into my skin as I reached rom 206. One breath, two deep breaths and I squared my shoulders.

It was _finally_ time.

The door was slightly ajar, and I pressed hard, remembering the rusty hinge as the heavy oak door seemed to push back against my palm. I stood motionless, blinking hard at what I was witnessing.

Papers were discarded on the floor and the desk lamp shade was knocked off kilter, with a small silky blouse hanging off the back of the chair. Thin arms wrapped around a smaller figure securely pressed against a book shelf. Delicate fingers rose over narrow shoulders and locked in long dark hair.

“How _bloody_ predictable.” My voice was higher pitched than intended, with a perplexing mix of boredom and disgust.

The two figures froze, though I caught the almost imperceptible movement of his shoulders tense as he cleared his throat as he slowly turned to face me.

“You should have knocked.” Frank’s face attempted formality and reproach, but just below the surface I saw the distinct twitch of his lip as he strained for control.

I mustered the sweetest smile I could amidst the bile I felt pooling in my stomach. “ _Oh, darling_ ,” I said in the tone he reveled in with misbehaving students. “Go fuck yourself.”

Without another word, I placed the diamond-encrusted ring on the desk, turned on my heel and walked out, leaving the door open behind me.

Each footstep was an affirmation. I had thought I loved this man, I had even agreed to marry him. But what I thought was a rush of love and passion was instead a carefully crafted façade and shelter of security. Each step carried me away from a dull, drab, restrictive existence and instead towards a mess of fiery red curls, a sea of deep blue, and warmth that ignited my every sense. 

The fire inside of me- the ache for his touch, the heat in his gaze, the gentleness of his words and kindness in his soul- that was _different_. That was _unusual_.

 _That_ was falling in love.

___________

The last words kept swirling around in my head.

His showered and freshly dressed form curled up next to me. Small droplets dripped from his ringlets to my cheek as I squirmed at their cool touch.

“I hate to leave ye, but I must,” his voice had hummed in his chest and I felt it against my back.

I had turned to face him, cupping his face in my hand as my lips rose to meet his.

“On your way, love.”

___________

I had worked 36 hours straight, had barely made it through the door, grabbed a bite of bread and sat on the floor of the shower long enough to wash away the sterile smell of the hospital.

Flickers of light danced across my vision as I drifted in and out of a restless sleep. A familiar clank of the key in the lock, a few soft footsteps down the hallway and then a pulse of heat filled the room. Touches were feather light against my skin and fingertips trailed up my arm to my neck. The smell of almond and honey engulfed me as I felt the familiar curls against my skin. Eyes still closed, I inhaled deeply and smiled, “Mmm.”

“Sorry to wake ye lass,” his breath whispered against my skin, fingers tracing the lines of my shoulder to the nape of my neck as he shifted closer to me. The long line of his body was pressed against mine and I melted into him. 

“You’re here,” I said simply, a smile creeping into my voice. My head tilted slightly and his lips lightly grazed my cheek.

“I’ve missed ye.” His arms had slipped around me, one palm rested on my stomach, the other searched for my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. I pulled it to my lips and let them linger against it, drinking in his scent. I felt a deep rumble against my back and I smiled again, that sound- _it was only for me_.

His arms tightened around me and I felt the pulse between us shift slightly.

One hand trailed down to my hip and cupped it, pulling it against him. His breath was coming faster against my neck and I felt my back arch in response. His fingertips pressed into my side as his lips found my skin.

His fingers slipped downwards towards my pelvis, forcing a small gasp to escape my lips. “Christ, Claire- ye feel so good.”

One hand lingered at my center as his body rolled on top of mine, pressing my chest into the bed as the other hand pulled my hips to meet his. Warm, soft lips trailed kisses from my shoulder to my neck. A slight graze of his teeth against my earlobe forced a small gasp from my lips.

The warmth from his chest radiated through me as one hand dug into the pillow and the other slid along his forearm to grasp his hand against me. My fingers pressed against his as he made rhythmic movements against my skin. Each movement pulsed through me and the heat spread across my skin as I gasped for breath. “Jamie- please…” my thoughts were scattered as I tried to keep from shattering, “I want you inside me.”

“I need ye Claire,” I felt his lips curl against my cheek as he whispered, his breath hot against my skin; “I can scarcely breathe.”

His hand shifted to my hip and as my back arched against his stomach, weeks of worry and all the small moments of loneliness vanished as he filled my every sense. I lost myself along the planes of his body as he moved within me, each ragged breath bringing us closer until the dam shattered completely and I was lost to the sea of deep blue as he held me close.

___________

His chest was warm against my cheek; a few copper hairs tickled my skin as I breathed him in, a heady mix of sweat, honey, and traces of my lavender shampoo. Fingers trailed up and down my back as I nestled closer to his warmth. His lips skimmed my forehead and I felt a small smile form. The ache had drained from my bones and I felt flushed with a quiet tranquility.

“Mmmm,” a small chuckle escaped my lips as I sighed in contentment. “I missed you, too.”

“That’s good to hear, Sassenach,” his voice was calm but I caught an undercurrent of anxiety, and I lifted my head to see his eyes intent on my face. “So, what have ye been up to in my absence?”

I paused, unsure if I should mention I had taken over his flat while he was gone, but decided to keep that to myself for now.

“Oh, lots of work. Joe’s back so I was able to catch up with him,” I smiled remembering the kind look on Joe’s face as he asked me about Jamie. How he had always known what questions I needed to be asked to help clear my head. How his words of affirmation had helped me take the final step in shutting the door to my past. “Other than that…” My eyes shifted down to his chest and one hand played with a copper coil sticking out against my hand.

Sensing my hesitation, I felt his hand close around mine. “Sassenach?” There was genuine concern in his voice as his fingers reached under my chin to pull my gaze back to his.

“I-I, well…” I started and paused.

_Secrets, but not lies._

Jamie had said there was an honesty- a truth- between us. I could keep my secret tucked away- my parting words to Frank along with the last remnants of my past locked up in a stuffy university office. Jamie would never know. But to keep the _truth_ of what it all meant from him? He had asked for honesty and he had given it- freely, without expectation. Jamie was _different_ , and whatever this was between us, I needed him to know the truth. All of it.

I let out a final breath before I finished, “I went to see Frank.”

“Christ, Claire.” His jaw was clenched tight, his nostrils flaring as his breathing quickened. His muscles tensed as he sat up, “Are ye _mad_ , woman?”

I pulled the sheet around my chest, a thin layer of armor as I sat up to meet his stare. Our perfect reunion was shattered as I stared at him in shock, “Excuse me? What-“

“Why did ye do that? The bastard _hurt_ ye!” His breathing quickened as his cheeks flushed.

“Yes, I _know_ that, Jamie,” I tried to keep my voice level as my heartbeat pulsed in my ears.

“I havena laid eyes on ye in almost a month, wishing every moment I was here in bed with ye, lovin’ ye properly.”

He ran both hands through his hair as he shook his head.

“Worryin’ about ye and my last words before I left.”

Panic shot across his face as he shook his head, red curls spilling down around his eyes.

“About lost my damn mind thinkin’ about all the things… and then- to ken ye…” His accent was thick and his words were coming fast, and more fragmented, with each ragged breath.

“Jamie, please-” My patience was slipping as Jamie became unraveled.

“Why did ye go to him? That man shared yer bed with another lass for Christ sake,” He practically shouted. “I’ve had no thoughts these past weeks other than bein’ able to worship yer body, to learn the secrets of yer soul and ye tell me ye went to see the last man to share yer bed?”

His words hit me like a dagger to the heart and a shot of adrenaline pulsed through my body, “YOU BLOODY SCOT! LISTEN TO ME!”

Jamie stared at me, startled like a wild animal. He blinked slowly as he swallowed hard. The fierceness in his stare faltered as he steadied his breathing, he sat eerily quiet but he was still visibly shaking. He stared at me, eyes feral and body tensed, ready to strike. “Sassenach-”

“No- you don’t get to talk. It’s my turn now,” He fell silent, eyes intense and shoulders square, bracing himself for my words. I took in two long deep breaths as I tried to steady my voice. “I went there to give him back his ring. I went to say goodbye. And I did.”

“Ye… ye did… what?” His eyebrows furrowed and his shoulders slumped. “He gave ye a _ring_?”

“Yes.” My tone was cooler than I intended, and my eyes softened just slightly as his eyes flickered with a deep sadness. I felt the light caress of a large thumb graze my hand, lingering between us as a question.

“Claire….” Jamie said my name slowly, as if it were a prayer off his lips.

“Jamie, _please_. I need you to hear me,” my eyes pleaded as my fingers intertwined with his softly. I felt a gentle pressure from his hand as he nodded slowly, eyes blue and intense.

“Since I was little, I’ve been on my own. And I’ve preferred it that way. But I was always looking for a place to call my own. I was young and naïve when I met Frank, and I thought he was that final piece missing.” I paused, watching the words hit him and sink beneath his skin. “But I was wrong. Frank, he… he didn’t want a wife- he wanted someone to tend to his needs, but not an equal.”

“Mmmph.” His nostrils flared and I caught the twitch of his lip as he shook his head slightly.

My body ached to touch him, to press every part of me to his warmth but I resisted, wanting clarity and needing to see his face as I spoke the truth of my heart. My fingers closed tighter on his hand and I felt his pulse quicken slightly; he was barely restrained. “But then… I met you.”

His eyes flashed to meet mine, clear, blue, and intense. His hand caressed mine and he shifted slightly closer to me, timid but gentle. “Aye, ye did.”

“And I needed to shut the door on the past, Jamie. Before…” I took a deep breath, and squared my shoulders as I exhaled- “before I-I… could give you my _whole_ heart.”

His eyebrows rose slightly, the pulse under my finger skipped and his lips parted, breathing hitched. His voice was soft and low as it caressed every letter of my name, “Claire?”

My chin trembled slightly as I forced my eyes to meet his, but all I saw was serenity and peace staring back at me.

“Do ye love me?”

“Yes,” my voice was no more than a whisper.

“ _Mo nighean donn_ …”

“I do.” My breath hitched as I felt the weight of the words lift from my chest, “I- I love you.”

My arms reached for him and found his face- one hand cupping his cheek, the other wrapping around his neck, fingers locking into his curls. His arms locked around me, holding me safe. Our lips met softly, an affirmation. The words that had lingered between us for so long were now written within each other and I sighed in relief as I pulled my lips from his and pressed my face into the crook of his neck. His face was buried in my curls and I felt the low hum reverberate from his chest.

I was _home_. 

“Sassenach?” His voice was soft and warm, a hint of a smile forming.

“Mmhm?” I reluctantly tipped my head back to meet see a smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.

He tightened his arms around me, cocking his head to one side as he asked, “How long have ye been sleepin’ here in my absence?”

_Bloody Scot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	17. Chapter 16

CLAIRE

The next few weeks resembled the closest thing to a normal routine as I’d had in years. After a long shift I’d trek the pavement towards Jamie’s flat. At times he was quiet at the dinner table, whisky settled next to a dog-eared book, lost in the pages. Other nights I had found him curled on his side- hand on the pillow where my head would occupy, and I’d nestle myself against his chest.

___________

My legs felt heavy as I trudged up the two flights to his flat. I lightly turned the knob and smiled- it was unlocked, waiting for me. I shuffled off my shoes and dropped my bag on the floor next to the entryway table. The lights were off, save one- dimmed low in the kitchen. I tiptoed my way towards the soft glow down the hallway to see a note on the counter, tucked neatly under a dram of whisky.

_Là breith sona dhuit, Sassenach._

__

__

_J_

A soft giggle left my lips as I pivoted to the fridge and grabbed the neatly plated food awaiting me. More often than not, I would arrive at his flat later than promised, and each night I would find a note or sketch on top of whatever leftovers awaited me. He never complained, never commented about my erratic schedule, he never let me apologize for it- _there was nothing to be sorry for_.

My fingers traced his handwriting on the note- neat and uniform, yet with a hint of humor. It looked almost familiar as my mind lingered, allowing the whisky to seep under my skin and loosen the muscles between my shoulder blades. The flavor was distinct and I felt my cheeks flush- this was Lallybroch’s _verra rare vintage_. My eyes flickered to the liquor closet as my thoughts lingered- it looked just like my favorite label.

I rolled the last drops of whisky across my tongue, savoring the tingling sensation before settling the dishes in the sink and readying myself for bed.

“Mmm,” his eyes remained closed but the side of his mouth curled as he felt my weight behind him. “Ye made it ho… here safe.”

“I was starving, thank you for dinner,” I whispered into his back, every muscle relaxing as I soaked in his scent. My lips gently pressed against his skin as I smiled, “and the whisky.”

His weight shifted as he turned his body to mine, one hand snaking around my waist as he lightly kissed my forehead. His eyes opened slowly and remained half-hooded but he smiled slightly, his other hand propped up his head as his elbow found the pillow. “What did the note say? All I caught was _Sassenach_ ,” I said with a wink.

“Och, ye need to work on yer Gaelic,” he teased as his mouth found mine, his lips demanding as a his hands found the skin on my ribcage, his fingers making small circles that shot a pulse through my body.

A laugh escaped my lips as I pulled away, trying to find my breath, “Jamie, stop trying to distract me,” I gasped between his movements, “the note, what did it say!”

A deep hum lingered in his chest as he smirked at me, his gaze softening. “Happy birthday.”

I froze, eyes shifting just slightly as I tried to visualize the date. I had written it a thousand times today in patient charts but had never really thought about what it meant. “but… today is the nineteenth, I was born October the twentieth.”

“Aye, but yer in Scotland,” his accent thickened as his smile widened, “it’s only _proper_ to start it off with whisky, no matter the hour. Tis past midnight, no?”

My eyes rolled as I smiled back, “You bloody Scots…” I shook my head and tried my best to mirror his lilt, “ _but, I suppose I canna mess with tradition_.”

He laughed softly as deep blue darkened slightly as he took a long breath. “Tis a shame,” he said, his nose brushing against my unruly curls.

“What is?” I said, somewhat amused as I let his heat wash over me and melt away the long hours spent on my feet.

“That ye must tread all those blocks to my place after sae many hours on yer feet, with yer flat and yer things far in the opposite direction.”

“ _Oh yes_ , all of seven or eight blocks,” I said in jest but felt the mood shift between us as his breath quickened, but he made no reply. I caught the tell-tale twitch of his mouth, his face was slightly taut but he was trying for a casual glance in my direction.

“I’m happy to be here Jamie- honestly.” His silence was deafening as two fingers drummed on my side. I sat up next to him, my fingers searched for his and lightly laced between his.

I felt my words tumble out as I tried to fill the space between us, “I mean- if you _wanted_ , _needed_ some space… I can head back to my flat tomorrow.”

His fingers tightened around mine as I saw his pulse just below his jawline quicken.

“I mean, it’s been a few days since I’ve been back anyways. And… I-I’m sure you’d like to have your flat back to yourself for a bit.” My voice was weak and half-hearted but I tried for a smile as my thumb brushed the skin on his palm.

“Ye could…” he paused, his eyes avoiding mine. “Just… always come here. Yer wee things could find a place here, too.” Two fingers fluttered against my hand and I took in his true meaning.

“Jamie-” I started, my voice slow and soft- trying for a neutral tone. “Are you asking me to… to live with you?”

___________

JAMIE

It had been on his mind since… well, since _that night_. He had come home- _finally_ \- after nearly a month in London. He worked late into the night and then again before daybreak on more than one occasion in the hopes of returning to Edinburgh ahead of schedule. Wanting to surprise her, he had gone to her flat but found it dark and empty. Reluctantly, he had returned home- assuming some late night trauma had come into the A&E, extending her shift and keeping her from him for a few more hours.

He had found her in _his_ bed- dark brown curls sprawled against _his_ pillow. Little signs of her dotted his flat- a comb in the bathroom, second set of shoes in the entry way. The smell of her lavender shampoo lingered on his pillow- she had slept in his bed god knows how many nights without him there; she had wanted to be close to him, and that thought warmed him to the very marrow of his bones.

The faint aroma of her body wash lingered on the sheets, the smell of fresh tea leaves in the kitchen made him ache for her here every morning. Hearing her steps down the hallway, the sound of her sigh as she walked through the door; the look on her face as she’d round the corner to find him. Waking to their limbs intertwined- her face against his chest, his hand tucked firmly around her hip. Finding her silently in the dark- a mix of sleep and passion that brought them to ragged breath and sweet oblivion.

It was _her_.

He wanted the promise of them- _together_ \- every night.

He sat silent, his eyes tracing the lines of her fingers as they interlocked with his. She had shared enough of her past, of the path she took to be whole again- he knew this would not be an easy thing to ask. She had never shared a flat- not even with… _that bastard_.

“Aye,” his voice almost a whisper, “if ye’d like.” His smile was soft as he raised their hands to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles.

A sea of deep blue gazed into whisky amber, his face inches away from hers- ready but waiting. Her hand reached up and rested against his cheek, one thumb stroking his cheekbone. Her brows were creased but her lips were curled at the corners. “Are you _sure_?”

“I want ye here, Sassenach,” his smile widened as his arm pulled her close. “Always.”

___________

CLAIRE

His eyes hadn’t left me all day. Tracking me like a hawk, he had slowly and methodically worked through each room as I puttered behind him.

Packing my flat was pretty simple. My life had never consisted of _things_ \- a few photographs from my childhood- smiling faces of my parents holding my wild-eyed and squirming form, a few trinkets from my travels with Uncle Lamb, medical textbooks and a few old personal journals I kept through med school were all packed away in a few sparse boxes.

The last of my belongings were packed, with a heaping stack of mail precariously resting on the top box. I sat on the hardwood floor, fingers tracing the CEB of my scarf, mindlessly turning it over again.

“This is no’ how I imagined servin’ ye on yer birthday, Sassenach,” he tried for a wink and I laughed as my eyes scanned the boxes.

I hadn’t shared a flat with a man before- not even Frank. With him, I had always found a reason to hold off, even after the engagement. I had applied to a dozen residency programs without any knowledge of where I’d end up- it was only per chance ( _or was it_ ) I had ended up in Edinburgh. He had humored me at first but it wasn’t long before he grew sour at every mention of _my flat_. I could never place it but _something_ always kept me back from taking that final step.

But now, with Jamie, I felt nothing pulling be back but rather something propelling me forward. It was an invigorating high and one that thrilled and terrified me as much as it gave me peace.

I looked up from my scarf and met a sea of deep calm, nodding as I let out a deep breath.

“Well then, are ye ready to go _home_?”

My heart skipped a beat as my face rose to meet his, seeing his hand outstretched to me.

_Home_.

_Our home_.

_The home we would build together_.

My fingers linked with his, letting the warmth pulse between us as I smiled and my lips searched for his, “Yes.”

___________

JAMIE

He could pick out each of her knick knacks as he scanned the flat, each one a small glowing ember that marked her place here. It was a visual confirmation that he would get to see her- every day. 

It was almost six o’clock, they had just enough time to wash up before meeting her friends for her birthday dinner. No- they were _his_ friends now, too.

He heard the shower turn on and he smiled reflexively, looking down at his dusty and disheveled appearance, the exertion from her move still on his skin. One hand was already discarding his shirt as he stepped into the hallway towards the bathroom.

He stopped to take one final sweep of the flat, their flat- and eyed the pile of envelopes on the counter.

The corner of a thick manila envelope caught his attention- he saw the distinct mark of a hospital name printed. His smile faded and his brow creased as two fingers, slightly shaking, pushed the pile of envelopes enough to see the return address and he froze.

_Massachusetts General Hospital- Surgical Residency Admissions Office_

His eyes stared at the envelope as his pulse filled his ears; his world slowly faded to black as he stumbled backwards and hit the hardwood floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	18. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More formatting issues today it seems. Alas, I hope you're able to enjoy!

JAMIE

It was her birthday; she deserved a perfect night.

She deserved to be happy. No matter where she was. He wanted- needed- answers. He feared what she would say. He was desperate to know. But he would have to wait.

_One more night to cherish her before it all crumbled away._

__

__

_One night to imagine every possible scenario that ended with her leaving._

_Just make it through tonight._

_______

CLAIRE

I had never thought much of my birthday. My childhood had been spent on archaeological digs, scouring books in libraries for ancient secrets. The calendar hadn’t meant much to me until med school. And now, with Jamie, I eagerly checked my schedule against his, looking for precious hours to spend together. 

Having spent the better part of the day packing and unpacking my little corner of the world and settling it amongst his, I had been given the best gift of all.

Jamie.

And- that- I intended to celebrate.

_______

We had ordered another round- two drams of Glen Grant and two pints of stout. Jamie’s arm stretched along the back of my chair as my arm rested softly at his side. The final syllables of Joe’s punch line prompted a snort from Gail as I hiccupped into my glass and I laughed, trying to find my breath. I felt the low hum reverberate from Jamie’s chest and I leaned into the sound, one hand cupping his knee as I felt the line of his thigh press against mine.

Flashes of the life I had always wanted finally came into focus. Nights were not filled with formal dinners and expensively ostentatious bottles of wine, with etiquette and manners at the forefront and education and politics meticulously woven in. No. Instead, they were filled with pub food, cheap beer, good whisky, and my favorite stories made new again with Jamie by my side.

Joe launched into another memory from our neurology rotation and I felt a long sigh from Jamie. His eyes were focused on Joe, head nodding slightly as he listened but I caught the slight tick of movement in his cheek, as if he was wincing, though it did not fit the story he was hearing.

He had been quiet tonight; I had eyed him speculatively more than once, sensing fatigue. His breath came hard at times, as if a weight lay on his chest. His eyes were hooded and I scarcely saw the sea of deep blue, but felt the familiar heat emanate from his chest and I settled myself next to him, basking in the warm glow of bliss I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I felt the drum of Jamie’s fingers along the chair, against my shoulder. My eyes searched for his, but he stopped short of meeting my gaze. Instead, one corner of his mouth curled slightly as he pulled his arm from me to take a drink of whisky.

_______

JAMIE

_Boston._

His ears heard the deep, velvety voice, but all he could focus on was the neat, even print on the envelope.

_Boston._

That word, that thought, kept trickling back into his mind despite his best efforts. He fought every urge to ask, and each time their eyes met he felt his tongue fight the word as it tried to form. Instead his hand found hers and pulled it to his mouth, gently kissing her knuckles. He heard, almost felt her sigh as his lips lingered against her skin for a moment, soaking in her smell and touch, before resting them both on his thigh. His heart pulsed both in love and in pain at the light hum of her laugh while anticipating the next line in a well-worn and beloved story.

_Boston._

He wanted to be near her, encompass her, pour himself into her and drink them both together. The sting of the word would shock his senses and it took all his energy not to retreat. He needed space, needed to be near her, needed to be alone and yet together all in one moment. His thoughts spun in an endless circle as Joe’s voice seeped in, feeling ivory skin locked between his fingers. He set back against the chair, cold and firm, exhaling hard as he nodded, hearing faint traces of the words floating around him.

_______

The tension between his shoulder blades could have snapped with a light touch. They walked slowly up the steps to their flat. Their flat- the words sent a hot spike into his chest as his mind started swirling once again.

As he pushed the door closed behind them, he turned to see her staring at him, close- too close, not close enough. Her eyes found his, whisky eyes glowed in the dim light- embers burning into his soul.

“Jamie,” she whispered; her voice low and full. She smiled as her eyes softened and her hand reached for his. “Take me to bed.”

He felt the hot spike penetrate his ribcage as her words hit him. His feet were locked in place, his hands burning to feel her skin against his. He wanted nothing more than to kiss, touch, caress every inch of her but felt his heart contract at the thought.

Her eyes flickered in doubt, her smile fading as her hand fell slightly. “ _Please_?”

The word broke his spell. He stepped towards her and without a word his lips found hers as his fingers locked into her curls. His tongue traced hers as she moaned into his mouth, her hands reaching for his arms, fingers pressed into muscle. Without breaking their kiss, he slowly walked her back into the apartment, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer against him.

_________

Her skin pulsed against his. Fingertips traced the lines of her curves as her breath filled his lungs. His tongue dipped from breast to rib cage and across her ivory skin. His lips grazed her collarbone and lingered against her neck, soaking in the faint traces of lavender on her and as it mixed with the honey on his breath. Small gasps escaped her lips as her back arched, their hips pressed against each other. Her fingers grasped for his curls and pulled his face to hers, deep blue drinking in her deep amber.

He entered her slowly, savoring each sensation, watching her lower lip quiver as he moved gently, purposefully. His eyes traced the lines of her face from her cheek to her chin, the curve of her lip as she brought her face to his. His eyes watched every movement, memorizing every sound that escaped her lips. Shadows of this moment would haunt him long after heat of her skin had left his fingertips. He pressed deeper, seeking for possession, both of her and his own. As the rhythm slowly brought them to pieces, she cried out his name- her voice written on his soul as he shattered around her. 

_______

CLAIRE

I felt weightless, adrift. My hand reached for him and found his pillow, empty. The deep contentment that coursed through me the night before dissipated as I yearned for his warmth, his steady heartbeat pulsing around me.

I found him sitting at the table; shoulders slouched slightly as he sipped his coffee, eyes fixated on the crack in the wood. My cup of tea was sitting next to him, as it was every morning.

I smiled as I walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder and as I kissed his cheek, I felt his muscles tense. “Good morning, Sassenach.”

“Good morning, sleep well?” I asked, trying to coax a smile but was met with hooded eyes.

He took a small sip and as he swallowed, I heard a low, “Mmph.”

“Jamie,” I asked, “Is something wrong?”

One hand rested on a thick envelope, fingers drumming lightly as he slowly slid it to me. His eyes finally met mine and burned my skin.

 

_Massachusetts General Hospital- Surgical Residency Admissions Office_

My eyes stared at the emblem, and my heart stopped. One hand trembled as I broke the seal and slowly pulled the top sheet out enough to see the first few words. I blinked twice before trying to focus on each letter.

_Miss Beauchamp, We are pleased to announce the opening of a position in the Surgical Residency Program._

A thousand fragmented thoughts flashed across my vision as I stared at the words, unable to move or speak.

“… Boston, then?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it was thick with anticipation.

My face lifted from the blue and white emblem on the envelope to see his eyes- a dark storm behind a carefully crafted dam- staring back at me, waiting. “Jamie…”

My heart was pounding against my ribcage and my lungs struggled for air as I tried to piece it all together.

_Boston. Scotland. Jamie. Home._

“Jamie,” I tried again, my voice was hoarse and shook slightly. “I applied for this program but that was over a year ago, that was before…”

“Before me.” His eyes dropped back to the table, he pressed his hands together and rubbed one palm with his thumb.

“Before a lot of things.” I tried to clarify, but his eyes were a thousand miles and two hundred years away.

“If ye hadna met me, would ye go?” 

“It’s more complicated than that.” My hand reached for his and tried to interlock our fingers. His hand did not resist but his fingers lay motionless. The movement that had all been but a reflex was suddenly a distant memory. I tried to clear my throat, to find focus, “I was weight-listed there, a position opened up so I’m next in line… if I want it.”

“Claire,” he paused, and raised his face to mine, eyes wide and unassuming. “Do ye want to go?”

“To this program?” I clarified, trying to find a few precious moments to sort out my thoughts.

“Aye.”

“It’s an incredible program. Anyone would lucky to be there.” My voice shook slightly as I tried to steady it.

“Yer no’ answerin’ my question.” His accent was growing thicker as I felt a distance form between us.

“Do you want me to go?” I felt my chin quiver as tears threatened.

“No-“ The word sounded broken as he took a deep breath, and shook his head slightly. “No I dinna want ye to go,” his eyes were a tumultuous storm as his voice shook. “But ye need to do this. Ye need to go to Boston.”

“But Jamie-“ the panic was seeping into my voice as I stared at him, his face as flushed as mine felt. “Things are d-different now.”

“I wilna be the reason ye miss out on this,” he pushed his chair away from the table, eyes focused as he took a deep breath before turning to leave the room. The sound of his feet on the hardwood floor pulsed in my chest to the beat of my heart. 

“ _Please_ ,” my voice cracked as I my head fell into my hands, fingers shifting into my curls as I felt the tears form. “Please don’t do this.”

He paused, turning back to see me. I heard two deep breaths before I felt slow, careful footsteps behind me and I felt large hands encompass me. His arms locked around me as his chest rested against my back.

“Mo nighean donn,” his face nestled into my curls, his lips finding my cheek as he sighed heavily.

My hands grasped his arms, strong and warm as I tried to steady my breathing. “Jamie-” but the words wouldn’t come. I closed my eyes, feeling the nearness of him and letting him fill my senses.

“I dinna want ye to leave, but I canna bear to be the reason ye stay.” His arms tightened around me as I felt a warm droplet meet my cheek, and I felt a small cough from Jamie’s chest.

The tension in the air was snapped by the deafening sound of my phone ringing. I stared at the screen, unmoving, still clenching Jamie’s arms, unwilling to let him move. My eyes locked onto the name calling and I felt my heart beat loudly in my chest. One hand slowly reached for the phone, shaking slightly.

On the fourth ring, I finally hit _answer._

I tried to compose my voice, failing miserably, “Gail?”

“Claire-Claire! Please, you have to come to the hospital. It’s Joe…” My mind went blank as the phone slipped out of my hand and hit the table. Arms around me tightened as I felt a cold chill in my bones, his heat unable to penetrate my thoughts.

“Claire? What’s wrong?”

Flashes of images ran through my mind but all I could manage through a wisp of a voice was “Joe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	19. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels like a broken record, but the formatting has been very frustrating. This is my third attempt to get it to load and it just... won't. Please read on and I hope you enjoy.

CLAIRE

I knew this hospital like the back of my hand. My feet had worn the grey linoleum floor during countless shifts. I knew every turn and shortcut in case of emergency. But in this moment, I was not a surgeon. I was someone’s wide-eyed loved-one wandering the hallways, looking from face to face. I was lost.

Jamie took my hand, warmth intertwined with a numbing cold that cut deep into my bones, and led me to Registration. His voice was steady, polite, and alert as he spoke with the nurse. I caught her slight blush as she answered him, gesturing to the corridor. As we departed, I watched her eyes as they followed Jamie, and saw the realization spread across her face as she noticed our hands, linked tight.

Our hands. Our lives. Us. Him. Me.

Boston.

My footsteps sounded foreign as they echoed off the walls, heavy and out of sync with Jamie’s. I walked these hallways every day, sure-footed and even tempo’ d as I maneuvered between cases. But Joe was not a case. No. Joe was… he was family.

My mind returned to my farewell to him last night.

Last night.

It seemed a lifetime ago. My world was perfect, intact. I had found utter bliss. Today, my world was splintered and one breath away from collapsing.

We reached the waiting room and I spotted Gail, hunched over in a corner, hair tussled, clothes bloodied. My brain focused just enough to evaluate her. Her wristband indicated she had been discharged from the A&E, no obvious signs of injury or treatment. I took two deep breaths and squared my shoulders, reaching for the shadow of Dr. Beauchamp, and approached her slowly.

“Gail.”

Her arms were around me as I registered her blouse, ripped slightly and stained in blood.

“We were...” her breath was raspy as she tried for air. “We were on the M8, on our way to Glasgow- the car it just... it came out of nowhere.” Her voice broke and tears streamed down her face, weaving new trails where dried patterns had stained her cheeks.

I held her as my eyes glanced at the wall- it was almost 9 o’clock, time for shift change. “Has anyone been by for an update?”

“Um… no I don’t think so. They took him in for surgery about an hour ago but I haven’t seen anyone since.”

“I’ll go find a doctor.” Jamie’s voice was gentle, his expression soft as his eyes searched mine.

“Y-Yes,” I stuttered, my own voice faltering as I cleared my throat. “That would be good.”

He took my hand and squeezed it gently before he headed back down the corridor.

“Jamie,” I called out after him, following behind him. He turned, eyebrows raised with a flash of concern written on his face before he composed himself. I felt hollow and my voice faded as I whispered, “T-thank you.”

He nodded slightly, a ghost of a smile touching his lips as he turned and continued towards the nurse’s station.

____________

The resident on staff came quickly, with Jamie barely a step behind. Any other day I would mentally assess their summation skills, their clinical breakdown and translation to lay terms. But not today. Today I hung on every phrase and nodded nervously at each simple word as they explained his injuries.

Broken leg. Concussion. Massive internal bleeding. They had it controlled and found a laceration in his liver. They were working to repair the rupture as well as a small section of perforated bowl.

I had seen this list of injuries before- in textbooks that Joe and I had studied late at night at the library during medical school.

He had been taken straight away to surgery. Rationally speaking, I knew his chances were good. But this was Joe, and no amount of medical training had prepared me for sitting on this side of the conversation.

We could expect at least a few more hours of surgery- if all went well.

____________

Jamie perched himself in the corner, a respectful distance from Gail and me. His imposing shoulders spilled over into the next seat, his legs were stretched out in front of him, one leg tucked under the other, looking impossibly large for this room. He was too near, yet not near enough. I needed air, I needed space. I needed his arms around me. I grabbed my bottled water and rose slowly, stretching. My shoulders popped and I felt a pull deep within my pelvis that shot through me like a bolt of lightning, a reminder of the night before and the rush of Jamie coursed through me all over again.

I took a few steps towards the exit and I saw him flinch. I turned to meet his glance and put my hand up slightly, urging him to stay.

____________

I sat on the bench under the concrete canopy, the hard slab of granite cold against my legs. I remembered walking through these doors for the first time with Joe as eager medical students, reveling in the adrenaline rush of our first rotation. The sound of Jamie’s whistle echoed in my mind as I saw glimpses of us holding hands as we walked towards my flat. I felt the shadow of Jenny standing between me and the doorway- her confession, her plea, and all that spiraled after it.

Boston.

One open spot, and they offered it to me. I hadn’t told Jamie the rigors of gaining a position in the program, there was no point. He wanted me to go. He told me I needed to go.

Anyone would be lucky to go there.

And I could be one of them.

Boston.

I had spent my undergrad years imagining my name attached to that hospital. A successful residency there all but guaranteed me any opportunity. Uncle Lamb had raised me to be independent- no single person was worth compromising my hard earned accomplishments or conceding the future I had worked so hard to achieve.

But... Jamie. The mere thought of him conjured up thoughts of a life to be lived. Lazy Sundays settled with tea and a good book. Red and brown curls tangled together against white cotton sheets. Autumn days spent hiking his secret trail. Lallybroch. Feeling life within me; seeing my belly swell. Possibilities I had thought I said goodbye forever to after that fateful day I found Frank and a mess of blonde in his office.

Boston.

I could see my title, Dr. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, in neat script on my left lapel.

Joe.

The only remaining link I had to my past. He had seen me through so much. The velvety baritone that hummed in his chest could make me laugh as easily as cry. He had seen me at my worst; he had picked me back up and helped me put myself back together.

He had to be ok.

Two deep breaths.

I tried to imagine residency without him. His smile as he shuffled patient files, his wink as he’d try to tempt me into a post-shift drink. Joe was a calm center, a beacon in the dark, someone I turned to when nothing else made sense. Birthdays, holidays, quiet moments charting in tandem. My world consisted of so little, yet was filled with so much. 

My eyes closed as I leaned forward, letting my face fall into my hands- elbows propped up on my knees. The events of the past twenty four hours swirled around me and I felt a kind of seasickness creep in.

I heard the familiar cadence of his footsteps as the swell of turbulent thoughts continued.

“The doctor came by again. “ He sat close to me on the bench, but stopped short of touching. “Thought ye’d want to hear the update.”

Every muscle tensed as I held my breath, waiting for Joe’s fate- spoken in the deep, soft Scottish voice that sounded as familiar to me as my own. “What did they say?”

“They said sae far it looks good, verra promising.” His hand rested on the bench, inches from mine, close enough for me to hold but he waited.

His words hit me like a wave and relief flooded my senses. His heat pulled me to him, and my shoulders slumped as my head found his shoulder. His arm slid along the small of my back and tucked around me, gently holding me close.

____________

Joe was in recovery, surrounded by the steady sound of beeping coupled with the whoosh of the respirator. He seemed so small, so fragile. He looked like a child, small in an oversized bed. My heart contracted as Gail gently took one hand and perched on the side of the bed, the other hand held to her mouth as she held back tears. I stood there as a voyeur, witnessing an intimate moment between lovers, and I needed to escape.

I was desperate to feel a connection, to ground myself. I needed an anchor to keep me from drifting away. I took Jamie’s hand and as our eyes met, I saw the question in his eyes.

I led him silently to the on call room, shutting the door behind us as the click of the lock echoed through the room.

He stared at me- eyes hooded, breath quickening. “Sassenach…”

My hands found his face and pulled his mouth to mine. One hand intertwined in his hair and pulled him closer, the other grabbing for the hem of his shirt as I panted into his mouth.

“We canna…” he said through ragged breaths, as his hands grabbed, searched, and kneaded each new surface of skin.

“I need this- I need you,” my voice was shaky and I felt tears stinging my eyes.

One final breath of restraint and then his hands reached for my waist, discarding my jeans in one hurried motion. My hands fumbled with his zipper as his mouth traveled to my neck and one hand reached my breast. His other hand grabbed the base of my thigh, and as my legs hitched around his hips, he pushed me against the wall.

I gasped as he filled me with a forceful thrust. We moved with a piercing urgency, each stroke a dagger to my core. Our breath tangled between us as my fingers dug deeply into his neck and my teeth grazed his ear. Each ache, every fear, every worry that had seeped into my bones was being forced out by the sheer power of Jamie. He encompassed every sensation, every feeling and as I fell to pieces around him, my thoughts scattered and for a brief moment I felt peace.

His hands held me still, our breathing slowly returning to normal. I couldn’t move, afraid that the moment we parted I would break into pieces. His nose nuzzled in my hair as I rested my forehead into the crook of his neck.

He slowly lowered me, my legs tentatively finding solid ground. I slowly lifted my eyes to his face; our eyes met as his hand searched for mine. He took it and slowly lifted it to his lips, soft and warm against my skin. I tried for a small smile as he lingered, unmoving, waiting for me. I nodded, my brows creasing slightly as I took a deep breath, creating a minute space between us- releasing him from me. He composed himself, looking back at me once more before leaving the room. I leaned against the wall, a crack forming in my fragile veneer of armor.

____________

I slowly made my way back to the waiting room, my breath coming quicker as anxiety crept back in with each step. My eyes caught sight of Gail, who walked slowly towards me, her eyes fatigued. “He’s asking for you.”

He was awake.

My arms wrapped around her and I held her close as we both sighed in relief. She squeezed me tightly once more before releasing me. I turned down the hallway towards his room, my hand slowly knocking on the door before pushing it open.

“Lady Jane.” His voice was small and hoarse, and his lip curled into a small smile.

“Joe,” my eyes filled with tears that fell down my face before I could stop them. I made my way to the bed, slowly taking his hand and took the chair next to him.

“You’re not the crying type LJ, what’s wrong?” he said with a wink and a laugh, inducing a small wince.

“You bloody fool!” I had tried for a teasing tone but as the first word left my lips, I felt the urgency in my words as they came faster and harsher than I intended. “Don’t you dare scare us like that again!”

“I know LJ. I didn’t mean to almost up and die on you- honest.” His head shook as he eyed me. “Look at all these machines. It’s overkill for some routine surgery. The beeping is incessant.”

From his tone, I knew he was trying to change course, to shift focus. I could see the tension in his shoulders- he didn’t like the worry, the fuss over him.

“Those tears can’t all be for me.”

His voice became stronger over the continual clicking of the heart monitor in the background. His eyes wandered to the machines and he glanced over them with a doctor’s eye.

“What is it, LJ?”

My eyes focused on the monitors, checking his oxygen level.

My silence spurred him on.

“What’s going on? Please don’t make me ask again.”

I was quiet, my eyes focused on our hands loosely linked on his hospital bed. Two deep breaths. My eyes tentatively rose to his as I whispered, “Boston.”

“Well... shit. That would do it.” He said with another wink, echoing his words about Jamie all those months ago. His eyes stayed on me, waiting.

I closed my eyes and shook my head lightly, “He told me to go.”

“He’s a good man.” He chuckled, shaking his head as well. His eyes met mine as he clarified, “The better man.”

I sat quietly, eyes down, slowly nodding.

“You do know that, right?”

My eyes rose to him and I cocked my head, scoffing. His eyes bore into mine and I felt my barrier crack. By the time words formed, they were no more than a whisper. “Yes, I do.”

“I know that’s what’s scaring you. You’ve made a life on your own, and you can do it all by yourself. You’ve proven that- more than once.” He paused, his breathing slightly labored.

“I know, but-“

“But what, LJ?” His eyes stayed on me as I shifted in my chair.

My fingers tugged at the hospital blanket as I shielded my eyes from him. He saw right through me, and it was truth time.

“Look. Frank was a fucking bastard. You thought he took things from you that you could never get back. But- the truth is… He couldn’t take them from you because they weren’t there to begin with… not with Frank.”

My hand tightened around his, holding my breath as he continued.

“Boston is an incredible opportunity; you’d have the world at your fingertips. I’d miss the hell out of you, but I want the best for you- you know that”. He paused again, taking a deep breath. “But I see the way Jamie looks at you, the way you look at him.”

My chin trembled as tears threatened to form.

“Those ‘things’ Lady Jane, they are there- now, With Jamie. All you have to do is take them.” His eyes softened; his voice low. “The question is- do you want to?”

A small smile formed as my hand wiped away my tears. I paused, letting his words settle under my skin, feeling their full weight. My voice was shaking, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do, LJ. You’re just afraid of it.” His voice had a trace of humor in it, and he sighed as his eyes slowly closed. His hand tightening around mine.

He was right, I knew the answer. I was afraid. Afraid of the life I had envisioned for so long and the flashes of a life that could be lived. I needed to reconcile who I was with who I wanted to be.

It was time to make a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY KINGDOM FOR JUST ONE CHAPTER TO FORMAT PROPERLY on here. 
> 
> I am really proud of this chapter, but am frustrated that some of the finer points in this chapter won't be emphasized as I've written it and as it's meant to be read.

CLAIRE

A knock on the door stirred me as I heard a figure shuffle into the room. The familiar sound of medications hitting the paper dispensing cups caught my ear as I took mental stock of my surroundings. I heard the familiar beep of the monitor and the smell of hand sanitizer stung my nose. 

My eyes were dry, and it took a second effort for them to open. When they focused, I was faced with a blank wall, save a familiar framed print of a vase- brimming over with flowers.

A blank wall.

A vase of thistle and heather.

Unmarked canvas.

Jamie.

Bare wall.

Boston. 

My thoughts swirled as I lifted my head- my neck was stiff and the deep ache of exhaustion lingered in my bones. My hand was still intertwined with Joe’s, his pulse slow and strong under my fingers. He was fast asleep, likely put under by the steady drip of morphine in his IV. I blinked hard and saw the clock hanging on the wall. It was nine o’clock- I had fallen asleep in Joe’s room, my head on the side of his bed for the last few hours.

___________

JAMIE

His eyes stayed on the door to Joe’s room. Fingers drummed against his thigh incessantly as he tried to keep his breathing under control. He could still feel her tongue against his, taste her need and feel the urgency as he pressed into her. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and focus.

If there was one person who could set her straight, it was Joe. He could almost hear the hum of Joe’s voice through the wall, stern but kind. Joe would tell her to go to Boston, and he would be right to do it.

The hands moved around the clock at a painstakingly slow pace.

He made a quick call to Murtagh- letting him know he wouldn’t be in Glasgow in the morning, asking for a few days off. As soon as the words left his mouth he abruptly ended the call, before his ears caught a string of Gaelic swears he knew were coming.

He knew the timing was bad, with recent developments ahead of schedule, but he could not think about work or all that he had planned- with her. He was going to need time, space, and to cut himself off from anything that reminded him of them.

He had hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his hands locked together as his chin rested on his knuckles. He waited, eyes locked on that door- barely risking a blink.

His eyes followed the nurse as she methodically knocked on Joe’s door, not waiting for a response before entering. The door swung shut, clicking behind her. More seconds ticked away on the clock as he waited. When the door finally reopened, Claire emerged slowly from the darkness. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, shoulders tense. Her eyes were unfocused- red and drowsy. She moved as if in a fog- desperately searching for refuge.

He all but jumped out of his chair, using every ounce of restraint not to run to her and gather her into his arms.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?” the last word hitched in his throat and he swallowed hard.

“Please Jamie,” she sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping, “take me home.”

___________

The walk back to their flat was slower than usual, Claire’s feet shuffled against the pavement as she meandered slightly. His hand hovered at the small of her back, ready to steady her or steer her should she waver.

With the door locked behind them, they were alone, safe, and timid with each other. His eyes scanned her as she stared at the two mugs still side by side on the dining room table.

There was so much to say, but tonight they were both hollow. The rush of intertwining her world with his to the gutting realization of Boston- trying to hold their world together amidst the backdrop of her birthday and Joe’s accident.

No. Tonight, they needed whisky and the promise of sleep. He needed her beside him.

She looked fragile, a breath away from crumbling. He stepped carefully around her towards the liquor closet. He eyed her closely, seeing her hands shaking slightly. “That bad, is it?”

“And worse,” her voice wavered as her eyes opened, meeting his gaze.

He nodded slowly, taking two glasses and filling them with her favorite whisky. Handing her a glass, he raised his own. “To Joe.”

Her chin trembled slightly; he could see the fear and anxiety wash over her as she tipped hers in response before downing the liquid in one motion. Her eyes closed again as she swallowed, her jaw clenched but her eyebrows slowly relaxed. He caught a flicker of relief in her breath as it steadied, and her eyes opened to meet his before lowering to the floor.

“Come, Sassenach,” he reached out a hand to her, “Let’s get ye to bed. Ye looked fashed and ye need sleep.”

She paused for a moment before nodding and took his hand, eyes not lifting from the hardwood floor as he led her down the hallway to their bedroom.

___________

He couldn’t sleep.

His body was attuned to hers, feeling every muscle twitch as she tossed from side to side. She had been restless all night- entangling her limbs with his and fidgeting with the sheets before abruptly searching for solitude.

He had felt her weight leave the bed more than once, and each time he fought the urge to follow her. Instead, he locked his hands together against his pillow, ears perked to each sound from the kitchen. He had heard the clink of glass, the flow of water from the tap, and deep breaths as she emptied the cup before her feet shuffled back towards him.

He breathed in the scent of her body and the mass of curls dripping in lavender, listening to her every sound, taking in her nearness. Their bed- his bed, would not feel the same without her; there was no relief from the pressure in his chest as he soaked in every moment she lay next to him.

___________

CLAIRE

His heat was too close, I couldn’t breathe. My thoughts could not focus with the promise of his touch one breath away. I turned my head to see the outline of his cheekbone, kissed in moonlight. His eyes were closed but his breathing was shallow; he was just as restless as I was. My eyes stared at the clock- 4:00am.

I let out a heavy sigh and pulled myself out of bed once more, my eyes not leaving his face. His eyebrows creased and his hand flinched but he did not open his eyes. 

I dressed silently in the dark, grabbing for the nearest shirt I could find- Jamie’s. I sighed and it felt hollow. I slipped it over my head; the scent of honey, almond, and body wash encompassed me as I breathed in his aroma. Finding my jeans and his sweater, I padded to the door. Looking back once more at his form on the bed, my eyes traced his sculpted muscle, intertwined with cotton sheets. His red curls were tussled against his forehead as his hand rested on my pillow.

___________

The streets were quiet, with whispers of daylight just creeping up from the horizon. It was only a few blocks, and I needed to think.

It was time to decide.

The hospital came into view. I needed sanctuary, and at this time of morning the gallery of the operating theater would be empty. I picked up the pace, looking for solitude and clarity.

___________

JAMIE

He had felt her stir, heard the shuffle of clothing as she moved through the flat. The click of the door lock hit his ears with a deafening sound.

He counted the minutes she was gone. Every muscle in his body ached and his head throbbed. A thousand thoughts swirled around him as he waited; he fought sleep but his body surrendered to sheer exhaustion as his mind conjured the exact amber of her eyes.

___________

The sound of the door latch shook him from his sleep. His ears followed the familiar cadence of her feet against the floor, and he felt his shoulders relax slightly. He slowly opened his eyes enough to see a soft glow peeking through the window against the curtains. His eyes came into focus as they caught the time on the nightstand- 5:35am.

Her weight shifted the bed slightly as he turned his face to hers, a small curl of her lip formed as she whispered, “Hi.”

He blinked slowly, taking in every angle of her face and committing that sound to memory. His voice was low, thick with fatigue, “Mo chridhe.”

“Are you awake?”

“Aye, a restless wee billy goat lay next to me last night,” he with a half crooked smile. “Dinna ken where the wee creature went.”

It was enough to elicit a small laugh, and he smiled in response.

“Jamie?” Her voice was small, barely leaving her lips.

He almost broke at the sound of his name on her lips. His hand tentatively moved towards hers, breathing deeply before gently closing his around hers. “Cla-” He paused, the thought of her name made his heart constrict. “…Sassenach?”

Her fingers pressed softly against his, her eyes watching his as she asked, “C-Can you take me somewhere?”

“Aye.” He cocked his head slightly against the pillow, eyebrows creased. “Where do ye wish to go?”

“Just…” she started, waving her other hand towards the glow from the window, sounds of traffic softly humming from the street below. “Away from here.”

___________

The air was crisp as they slowly made their way up the footpath. He could walk this path with his eyes closed. But today, his eyes were locked on the horizon, yearning for the clearing awaiting them, needing air and space to think clearly. But every footstep was closer to their farewell and his feet were heavy, grazing the dirt and finding uneven ground.

He had brought her here before, all those months ago. His heart almost burst with the possibilities then, now he felt it crack, sinking with every movement forward.

He pulled his eyes from the first colors creeping across the sky and turned to see Claire, her eyes locked on him. Stormy blue met golden amber and he stopped. Her cheeks were gently kissed with a soft pink, a few curls floated around her face as the wind swept through the valley.

He wanted to remember her just this way, and without another breath one hand touched her face and his lips searched for hers. His breath mixed with hers as her mouth opened to his, and the warmth of her tongue sent a current down his spine. His other hand wrapped around her waist, anchoring her to him as he searched for absolution, finding only endless waves of heat as her arms locked around his neck and he drank in the taste of her. 

Breathless and drowning in her touch, he broke their contact as his hand held onto her face, fingers locked into her curls. He felt a rush of calm as he stepped back from her, turning towards the peak as his other hand found hers, lacing his fingers with hers.

___________

Together, they crested the top of the Graham. Plumes of vibrant violet and a burning red flashed across the sky as he led her to his spot- a ledge of granite well-worn by time and softened by a thick cover of moss.

This place was the same, but felt so vastly different. Effervescent colors had streaked the sky before, painting the horizon in a vivid watercolor of light at sunset- seemingly just for them. That was the first time his heart had formed the words before he could find the courage to speak them.

Tha gaol agam ort.

I love you.

He meant it more now than he ever had. He needed to speak the truth of his soul but could not find the words. Being here again with her- now- his heart was all but splintered as he knew this is where they would say goodbye.

He took a deep breath before he unlocked his fingers from her and took a step back, memorizing her face as the sunrise warmed her face.

“Jamie,” her voice was soft, her eyes focused on an unknown spot in the distance. “We need to talk about Boston.”

Fuck.

“Aye,” he sighed deeply as he fought the urge to look away. “We do.”

Please. Just one more moment before this all shatters.

His eyes traveled every curve of her face and soaked in the exact color of her curls, the furrow of her brow and every spec of gold in her eyes. He felt the words coming, both conjuring and cursing them as they formed on his tongue.

Her eyes finally shifted to him, her fingers locked together in her lap. “Jamie-”

“Claire-,” he interjected, unable to hear the words that would ruin him. If his heart were to break, he would be the one to strike the crushing blow. 

She sat silently, lips slightly parted but she said nothing. Her eyes were wide but soft, curls sweeping across her face as she cocked her head to one side, listening.

Christ she was beautiful.

“You are going to Boston.” His words came out slowly, tasting sour as each syllable burned his tongue.

This is it, man. Ye canna stop now.

“Ye need to do this. I am sae proud of ye- ye’ll be a gifted surgeon.” His words tumbled out as his voice shook, “I mean- to say… ye already are. But Boston, ye said it yerself- anyone would be lucky.”

His eyes closed as he tried for air, his accent thick in his throat as he slowed down enough to focus as his eyes opened to meet hers once more. “But yer no’ lucky. Yer gifted in healing. Ye’ve earned it. Ye must go.”

Her face contorted slightly as she shook her head slightly, her brows pressed together, and her lips pursed. Her cheeks were flushed and tendrils freed by the wind swirled around her face.

His very own tumbleweed.

No. Not his.

“Are you finished?” Her tone verged on amusement as one eyebrow rose as she looked at him.

He breathed heavily, having spent all his air saying the words he’d dreaded over the last forty eight hours. His head crooked slightly, running his hands through his curls as he nodded, “Aye.”

He stood, facing her, feeling unsteady. His hands shook with adrenaline and anticipation. His eyes shifted slightly to the space next to her. It would be easier to keep his distance, but he needed to feel her touch against his skin. He swayed slightly as he heard her voice cut through his thoughts, “Jamie, will you sit with me?”

It wasn’t a question, and he did not hesitate. He felt the pulse between them strengthen as he eased onto the ledge, back straight and shoulders square. He took a final breath to steel himself before he turned his face to meet hers.

“I love you… you know that, right?” A ghost of a smile flashed across her lips before it vanished.

“Aye.” His heart was pounding in his ears and his jaw clenched as he forced himself to hear her words.

Her hand lightly traced his, her fingers slowly nestling between his. “And you love me enough to want what’s best for me.”

Christ.

His eyes shifted to their hands, the final moments of their lives linked. His hand tightened around hers as he tried for deep breaths.

“But what if what I want…” she trailed off, as she took her other hand and slowly lifted his chin, tilting his face to meet hers, “is right here?”

“Claire-” He started as his hand rose to his face, grasping for hers as he tried to pull it away. She ignored it as she pressed her palm into his jawline.

“No. Jamie. This is my life. My choice.” Her voice was steady as her thumb lightly grazed the skin against his cheekbone.

“But ye canna-”

“I bloody well can!” Her voice was strong now, almost forceful as she pulled her hand away. She rose and took a step back, shaking her head as she turned to face him again. “What good is a career in Boston if I have no one to share it with?”

His pulse quickened as he dared to really hear her words and he felt a pang of hope as he shook his head, trying to keep the trembling pieces of his heart from crumbling.

She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one hip. “My life is here. It’s Joe, Gail- it’s you.”

“Sassenach-” he was unwilling to hope. He dropped his head, shaking it slightly as his eyes closed. “I canna be the reason ye stay.”

“Jamie. Look at me.” 

He slowly opened his eyes to see her kneeling in front of him, eyes level with his. He moved to lean back but her hands clasped around his neck, holding him close.

“I’ve never known home, until you. It’s not England, Scotland, or Boston. But you.”

He could not find words. He leaned forward, his forehead resting against hers as his shoulders tensed.

“Please- don’t push me away,” the veil of calm had cracked, her voice shaking as her fingers pressed into his neck. “The sum of my choices is my life, and this is the life I choose, Jamie.”

“Mo nighean donn…” his voice was raspy, his heartbeat quickening as he struggled to keep his thoughts from scattering.

“I want this, Jamie. I choose us.” Her eyes burned into his like an ember.

He took one final breath, his arms slowly wrapping around her, holding her in place, not letting her go.

“Besides,” she said with a curl of her lip, “I bloody well can’t live without you.”

The sun caught the flecks of gold in her eyes as the smile spread across her face. Her lips slowly found his- tender and gentle. The moment he felt the heat of her skin, his arms pulled her tighter, his tongue sought hers. Her chest pressed into his as her hands traveled from his neck to his shoulders and locked into his curls. His hand cupped her head as their mouths moved together, a rhythm that matched the pulse of his heart. Every ache and throbbing pain of the last few days was slowly washed away as he breathed in her kiss. He moaned into her mouth as the words came into focus. You are my home.

She wasn’t going, she was staying.

Home.

Both breathless, she sighed as her face dropped from his, resting her forehead against the crook of his neck. He held her close; her arms were securely locked against his back, their breath slowly steadying as he felt a hum vibrate against him. 

“Jamie?” she asked, slowly tilting her face up towards his.

“Aye?” His nose trailed hers as every sense filled with her.

“What does ‘mo nighean donn’ mean?” Her voice was soft but he caught the distinct Scottish lilt she always tried for and a giggle settled deep in her chest.

His eyes opened slowly, meeting hers. His voice was warm and calm, “My brown haired lass.”

Her head tilted slightly, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth as she sighed. “Yes. I am.”

She was. And she always would be.

Moments in time not yet lived flashed before his eyes, and he rested his cheek against her curls. All these months away from her- late nights, weeks in Glasgow and London, secrets, and half-truths. He was ready.

It was time to tell her the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have resolved the formatting issue (somewhat haha)! Make sure to check out the extra special treat at the end of the chapter- courtesy of @Holysmoakingqueenz !!!!

CLAIRE

_Relief._

__

__

_He was mine, I was his. Nothing would change that._

______________

JAMIE

_Almost finished._

He checked his phone for the time and exhaled loudly.

“Easy lad, dinna think she’d take kindly to ye up and dyin’ on her.” He tried to hide his humor but caught Jamie’s eye as he winked.

“Murtagh…” His brows were creased and his voice was strained. “What if I canna do it?”

“A little late for that now, _mmph_?” He gave Jamie a nudge with his elbow and he turned back to his work.

“Aye, I suppose it is,” was all Jamie said as he pulled out his phone, his thumbs padded quickly as he searched his contacts.

_On my way. Thanks Joe._

______________

CLAIRE

Jamie was running late. I rearranged my coat that held his seat at the bar as Joe and Gail ordered another round.

“He said he was tied up with something- Murtagh needed his help,” I offered, trying to fill the empty space next to me as I glanced down at my screen, checking the time.

“I’m sure he’ll be along soon,” Gail patted my arm and smiled.

Joe’s phone buzzed and he grabbed it- a surgeon’s instinct to rise up and meet an emergency. I caught a hint of a smile as he typed a response before locking the screen, placing it face down on the bar top.

“Everything ok, Joe?” I raised one eyebrow as I glanced down at his phone.

“Right as rain, Lady Jane.” He smiled and raised his pint to me, clinking it with Gail’s.

I nodded and reached for the newly filled glass of whisky and took a generous sip. The familiar tingle hit my tongue and I soaked in the flavor of jasmine and honey, with the hint of toasted caramel as it lingered.

We settled into an easy conversation as Gail and Joe discussed their summer plans. My ear caught the sound of the door as a rush of cold air hit my skin, forming gooseflesh. I felt a pulsing heat from behind me, coupled with the familiar aroma of smoked woodchips and almonds. My eyes closed as I took in his scent, feeling a calm wash over me.

“Is this seat taken?” his voice was low in my ear, his nose nestling into my hair as he placed a kiss on my neck.

“Just saving it for a dashing highlander,” I smiled as I pulled my coat from the chair, anxious to feel his heat encompass me. He shifted onto the bar stool, one hand rested low on the small of my back as he leaned into me, placing a light kiss on my lips. Our eyes locked and I exhaled, the stress of the day falling away as the rhythm of our breathing matched.

“Well we had better get going, have a good night you two.” I turned towards Joe and caught a quick wink, but it was not intended for me, but rather for the curly mop of red hair settled next to me. My brows creased as I tried to read its meaning but Joe pulled Gail’s stool out and they were headed towards the exit without another word.

My eyes were still on the door as I felt the movement of my glass in my hand. I turned to see Jamie draining the last of the liquid before setting it back down on the bar top, his tongue catching the remnants that glistened on his lower lip as his eyes found mine.

“So, Sassenach,” Jamie’s hand shifted to my hip, his fingers slowly peaking under my blouse, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. I felt a small pull start deep within my pelvis as he continued, “Do ye ken what today is?”

My head cocked as I tried to focus, feeling small swirls against my skin, “Erm… Saturday?”

He leaned in closer as his lips brushed my forehead. “Aye. It’s also our anniversary.”

“It is?” My brain counted the months as a small smile formed on his lips. “But that can’t be right-”

“Aye, it is,” his other hand found mine and our fingers laced together softly. “One year ago today we met- right here in this spot.”

I blinked hard and remembered that moment- we had been suspended in time. The pulse between us ignited something inside me I had never felt. Those deep blue eyes had pierced through me and that instant between two strangers had felt more intimate than any moment of my relationship with Frank- with _anyone_.

“You’ve kept track?”

“Oh, aye,” the smile spread across his face and he leaned closer, “It isna every day a wee Sassenach lassie stumbles head first into yer life… and chest.”

His hand traveled the length of my back as his eyes watched my face as I took in each sensation. His fingers searched for mine and laced between them, holding me in place.

His teeth grazed my earlobe and my breath caught. I tried to clear my throat but felt the heat as it spread to every limb.

“I could listen to your squeaky noises every day, Sassenach.”

“I do not make squeaky no-” my word was cut short as I felt the mix of his tongue and warm breath dance across my skin.

I felt the rumble of his laugh in his chest as he continued his assault, his face hidden in the expanse of my curls.

“Jamie-” my eyes fought to stay open as the waves of sensation pulsed through my veins, my words scattering as my hand tightened around his.

 _Don’t stop_.

I could feel his smile against my skin as he sighed, his breath warm against my neck. “Aye, come on Sassenach, let’s get out of here.”

______________

I smiled and nodded, taking a moment to clear my head before I reached for my coat and scarf, steadying myself. “Where to?”

Our hands were linked and my free hand clutched his bicep as I searched for his warmth. The wind around us sent a chill down my spine as I pulled myself closer to him, our steps in sync as we walked the pavement leaving Broch Mordha behind us.

“Ye cold, Sassenach?” He smiled and his accent was thick as he squeezed my hand. His hand reached into his jacket and pulled out his flask. Handing it to me, he tried for a wink. “Just a wee nip, aye?”

“More of your private stock, I see,” I smiled as my lips met the cold metal. His eyes studied my face as I took in the flavor. It had the familiar notes of the Lallybroch vintage I had committed to memory, but it was subtly different with an undercurrent of something I couldn’t quite identify. “This is _different_.”

“Aye, it’s a new distillery.”

I felt the rosy haze creep up my cheeks, and I smiled as I simmered in the sensation. “Mmm. I really like it.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his face before it vanished.

“Sassenach,” he stopped and stared at me, his eyes a dark and stormy blue. “Claire.”

My stomach flipped. He only called me by my name when it was important.

“There’s something I must tell ye.”

My eyes caught the twitch of his fingers against his thigh, and I knew it was something serious. Every muscle in my body tensed. I stared at him, not risking a blink as I heard my own breath, shallow and erratic.

“All these months, I havena been in Glasgow and London,” his words came a bit quicker, “There were times aye that I was, but many days, I was here.”

“What?” My voice was small, barely making it past my lips. “What do you mean, _here_? In Edinburgh?”

“I dinna want to keep secrets from ye, but for this- I had to.”

Jamie.” My heart was pounding in my ears as my vision blurred slightly. “What are you saying? Have you been… _lying_ to me?”

“Christ- No. I mean- Yes… but _no_.” He shook his head. “This has taken me from ye all these past months- late nights here and in Glasgow, trips to London. But the moment I laid eyes on ye, I knew I needed to.”

“Needed to _what_?” My head was swirling; his voice sounded foreign to my ears, his words blurring as I tried to focus.

“This.” His eyes traveled to the building in front of us.

My eyes looked at the solid oak door and ornate iron door handle. “Jamie, I don’t understand. What is this place? And what are you talking about?”

He released my hand to reach for a set of keys, unlocking the bolt with a swift motion before turning to face me with a hand outreached, “Come inside, and I’ll explain it all to ye. _Please_ , Claire?”

______________

His eyes followed my gaze, I could feel the pulse between us quickening as I took in the space.

The building looked like a renovated warehouse, an exposed venting system contrasted with old wooden beams that crossed the ceiling, nicked and marked by hands that were two hundred years old. Exposed brick lined the wall behind a thick wooden slab, a cut of an old tree with bark still evident but polished over, with bar stools lined up neatly in a row. Old and new mixed perfectly in this space. My eyes settled on the line of whisky bottles, strewn with small blue and white vases dotted with bundles of thistle and heather.

I turned my head to see his face- silver moonlight highlighted his cheekbones and contrasted against the deep blue of his eyes.

“I needed to make a whisky that matched the color of your eyes – that when I opened a bottle, I get traces of the remnants of whisky on your tongue – oak and hints of honey, the mix of our skin, together… the scents that lingers on ye long after I take ye.”

My eyes shifted back to the bar as I took a step closer to the bar and my eyes focused on the bottles. The label had the familiar faded blue Scottish flag in the background, just like his family’s label, but this one had a different name, written in a rusty auburn hue- Fraser’s Ridge. A silhouette set just to the left, and I squinted as I took in the line of the cheek- I would know that chin anywhere.

“It’s your _whisky_ , Claire.” His eyes were soft and filled with emotion, “I made it for _you_.”

“Me?” My eyes caught the letters printed in the corner-a stitch pattern I had memorized- a surgeon’s precision.

_CEB._

__

__

_The script matched my scarf._

My eyes refocused as I took in the full script.

_CEBF._

“… for _us_.”

C.E.B.F.

Claire. Elizabeth. Beauchamp.

My chest contracted as I stared at the last letter. F.

_Fraser._

I turned towards Jamie, my eyes shifting down to see auburn curls atop imposing shoulders, lowered to the ground- on one knee in front of me. My breath hitched as I took in his eyes, a dark, deep blue- vulnerable and tender. 

“Claire,” his voice was steady, clear, and strong. “There’s a lot in this life that I dinna ken. But I have no doubts about _you_ , about _us_. I want to wake up to yer curls splashed round yer face, and fall asleep hearing yer breath as it slows.”

Tears blurred my vision as I felt a swell in my chest. One hand rose to my mouth, a poor attempt to steady my breath as I took in his words.

He paused, just looking at me expectantly, and reached into the pocket of his jacket. When he removed his hand, a band of silver engraved with a bloom of thistle was nestled between his fingers. Time seemed to stand still as I took in his smile; his eyes alight with wonder as he looked at me. I blinked hard; my heartbeat pulsed through my body as I tried for a deep breath.

“I want my arms around ye to comfort ye, and _Christ_ , I want to revel in yer brilliance as ye heal. I lay myself at yer feet, praying ye’ll give me a lifetime to prove myself worthy of ye.” 

He rose slowly, his gaze not leaving mine, as he slipped the ring onto my left ring finger. His hand slowly reached for my cheek, fingers wrapped themselves in my curls as his hand cupped my face. “Will you have me?”

I pressed my forehead into his; taking two deep breaths before tilting my face back towards his. “Yes. Yes, I’ll have you.”

I felt his smile as his mouth met mine, his lips warm and soft. _Home._

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2yo48xu)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	22. Chapter 21

CLAIRE

I wasn’t good at this.

I could visualize the exact path of every major artery and vein in the human body and recite the muscles linking shoulder to calf. I could suture the delicate lining of the human heart.

But this? I was hopeless.

“Roses, then?” Jamie was staring down the row of various flowers and turned to face me, one eyebrow cocked. A small smile played at his lips as he took in my face.

I let a small laugh pass through my lips, shrugging my shoulders. The last time I had seen roses in abundance was draped over two coffins, side by side as Uncle Lamb held my hand, my life forever changed in an instant. I paused, trying for a gentle tone as I countered, “How about lilies?”

“Och, aye. I like it.” He smiled, his hand finding mine as he brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. “We could tie some thistle together and it’d be perfect, Sassenach.”

Six months down, three to go.

I had been adamant about waiting, not wanting to rush into marital bliss but rather to simmer in the peculiar sensation of anticipation and possibilities that came with the status of engaged. Jamie had been patient, but had taken subtle steps to keep the planning in motion. Well, he thought he was being subtle, but I just smiled and went along.

My thumb touched the silver band on my finger against my palm, sliding across the smooth surface and I smiled. He wanted a life with me, and for that alone I was willing to wear the dress, hold the bouquet, and smile for countless photos. What truly mattered to me was everything after “I do.” The ceremony of it all was important to Jamie, so it was important to me.

The market was alive with flowers, fresh produce, small booths with jewelry, and food vendors serving local fare.

“I saw a taco truck across the way- I’m gonna go see if they have any carnitas left,” he said, giving my hand a final kiss before unlinking our fingers and padding off through the crowd.

I didn’t need a big wedding- I just wanted the promise of James Fraser.

I watched as he whisked away with a bounce in his step, auburn curls visible despite the growing distance, towering above the crowd. I laughed a little as I shook my head- bloody Scot.

My bloody Scot.

“Claire?” His voice was thin. My ears perked to the cadence and my muscles tensed. That voice had said my name in moments of intimacy and I had once longed to hear it from his lips. I could imagine every line of his face in my head, and as I turned, all I felt was indifference at best and annoyance at worst. He was slightly off kilter as he took in my face; he attempted to steady himself, clearing his throat.

“Frank.” My tone was flat, short. My eyes glanced around but did not see any sign of blonde.

“You’re looking well.” his voice was a mix of disbelief and disappointment.

“Mmm.” Was all I responded as I nodded curtly, crossing my arms as one brow raised at him- waiting.

A swirl of wind circled us and my hand rose to my face, brushing a stray curl from my forehead and I caught his eyes locking onto my left finger. He paused, sighing deeply.

“Well that didn’t take long.” it was a thinly veiled jab, and one that years ago may have crippled my response. I would have retreated and apologized for something that wasn’t my fault. 

Instead, I cocked my head, my eyes steady as I met his stare, “I’ll take that as ‘Congratulations.’ How kind of you.”

His lips pursed together as his eyes narrowed slightly. “So, who’s the lucky bloke?”

I heard the familiar rhythm of his footsteps behind me before I could answer. Frank’s eyes widened as his eyes shifted up towards the imposing shoulders I knew were now just inches from me.

____________

JAMIE

“Frank.” Jamie’s voice was charged, barely in check, as he spoke through clenched teeth. He stepped forward, inserting himself between them. His chest heaved as he squared his shoulders, feeling every muscle contract- taking full advantage of his height.

He composed his face before responding, “You must be the poor unlucky chap. Have to say, I’m a bit disappointed.”

Jamie felt the almost imperceptible crack in his façade as his eyes bore into Frank’s. “Ye have some nerve.” His fingernails bore down into his palms, slicing half-moons into the skin as rage pulsated just beneath the surface.

Frank’s lips twitched as his head cocked, glancing at Claire before adjusting his posture. “I suppose I should congratulate you.”

“Mmmph.” One hand clenched, and he fought the twitch in his bicep and rush of disgust as it coursed through his veins.

This man hurt Claire.

“You should go, she doesna want anything to do with ye.” His eyes were focused, his voice held steady but he felt the slight tremble of his fingers as he tapped them against his thigh. His anger was just barely controlled, and his knuckles shook in anticipation of meeting Frank’s flesh.

“Excuse me,” Frank’s tone was condescending and dripping with disdain, “I believe I was having a conversation with Claire.”

“You dinna get to speak to Claire. Not after what ye did.” His accent was thickening and he felt his patience fray at the edges. His attempt at icy civility faded as Frank’s gaze crept back to Claire. Jamie’s shoulders were straight, upright like a soldier ready to charge. His eyes narrowed- cat-like, set with a fierce determination.

“Oh, you think you’re so different than me?” His eyes shifted from Claire to Jamie, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Don’t expect it to last long, not with this one. You’ll always come in second. Don’t expect her to sacrifice any of her time at that precious hospital. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

“That’s the difference between us, Frank. I dinna expect her to sacrifice for me. Claire is a fine surgeon, no thanks to you. Ye shoulda been proud of her… cherished every moment ye had with her. ” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Though I suppose I should thank ye- had ye no been foolish enough to lose her I wouldna be standing here, my ring on her finger.”

Frank scoffed as his jaw clenched. He took one more moment to stare at her. “You’ll see.”

“Ye think she’d ever take ye back?… Is that why yer here?” Jamie snorted and shook his head, breathing in deeply as he stared down at Frank. “After all ye put her through?”

Jamie took another step forward, closing the gap. This man thought he had the upper hand-that he could weasel his way back into her life, her heart. A jolt of electricity pulsed through his veins and for a moment he felt wild, almost feral.

As he contemplated another step, he felt a hand touch his arm, soft but secure. He looked down to see Claire’s delicate ivory fingers pressed into his skin, broken only by the glint of a silver band. He could tell it was a warning, but he could not stop himself.

His eyes shot back to Frank, “What kind of man doesna support the woman he loves? Brings another lass to the bed ye shared with her? No much of one.”

“Jamie, love. Can you please get me some water?” Her voice was soft but she eyes met his like a dagger. His brows furrowed as his eyes stayed on hers, before exhaling and throwing a final look at Frank. He placed a kiss on her temple, the heat pulsing through his lips as he lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

____________

CLAIRE

“Bloody barbarian.” He scoffed. His posture visibly relaxing as Jamie disappeared into the crowd.

“You-” I started, my voice strained and struggling for civility, “Do not get to speak about him. Period.”

“Oh come now-“

“NO.” I felt the blood pulsing in my lips as I stepped closer to him. “When I met you, I thought you were the one. I thought I’d love you every day for the rest of my life.”

He winced at the last words as he maintained his stare.

“You broke what we had. You damaged me Frank. But I’m done with you- us, all of it. I’ve been done. You’ve made your choices, and I’ve made mine.” The silver band on my finger burned into my skin as I continued. “I choose Jamie. In a hundred lifetimes and a thousand years- I would choose him.”

His eyes met mine, a final moment of contemplation as I saw the wheels in his brain start turning, looking for an angle or crack in my words.

I stared back- my voice was strong and certain. “Every time.”

His eyes dropped to the ground as he nodded slowly, shoulders sunken in resignation. “Right, then.” His voice was quiet as he lifted his head to meet my stare, “Off you go.”

“Goodbye, Frank.” With that, I turned on my heel and took off in search of that bloody Scot.

____________

I found him sitting outside the market, on a bench under a tree. Speckles of sunlight dotted the grass, leaves fluttering in the breeze created a shimmering pattern around his feet.

“Are ye alright?” His voice was controlled, but I could see his chest rise and fall- short, shallow breaths. He was still upset.

“Yes, no thanks to you.” I stood in front of him, arms locked around my chest as I watched him.

His eyes shot to mine, “Are ye mad, woman? That bastard doesna deserve yer time. Took all my strength to no’ drop him where he stood.”

“Jamie,” I said, a hint of annoyance enveloped my sigh as I looked at him. “That was uncalled for. That was not your place; you should not have inserted yourself into my history with Frank. I don’t need you grandstanding and swooping in like a bloody white knight.”

“Sassenach-” his voice was shaking and I watched the pulse at the base of his throat quicken. “Have ye forgotten? I saw how he broke ye.”

I blinked hard as I caught the edge to his voice, sorrow and frustration broke through and it stopped me in my tracks.

He ran both hands through his hair as he continued, his voice lower, slightly more controlled, “Christ, he had ye so scared to trust- to love again I almost lost ye before I could truly call ye mine.”

My breath hitched as I remembered that morning at Lallybroch. The pain, fear, and confusion that filled my every thought as I had fled. Was I being fair to him? Was I being fair to myself?

His eyes followed me as I stepped closer to him, taking a seat next to him. We were close enough to touch, but he kept his hands clasped tightly in front of him, his elbows resting on his knees.

He exhaled hard, his voice now quiet and hollow, “I was tryin’ to protect ye from-”

“Yes, I know.” Two deep breaths. “I know you want to protect me. That night at the restaurant- when I needed you to, you did. And every time since. When I’ve needed you to keep me whole and take on what I can’t, you do it- without hesitation.”

Warm, solid fingers slowly found mine, interlocking and pressing into mine gently.

“But I don’t need your protection anymore.”

His lips parted to speak, but he stopped as I squeezed his hand.

“I’m not broken anymore. I don’t want you as my protector;” I paused, feeling a smile curl at my lip, “I want you as my husband.”

“…and I canna be both?” his voice was honest, seeking truth.

“Of course you can,” I smiled, bringing his hand to my lips, kissing it softly. “But only if I can be yours in return.”

A flicker of sunlight found his face, illuminating a sea of deep blue as his eyes met mine, brows creased as he nodded slowly.

I sighed. I wanted to tell him just how much I loved him. But where words failed, I was resolved to show him. “Take me home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	23. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay folks. This is the second to last chapter for IDEKYN. I hope you enjoy it.

CLAIRE

_The Guest List._

 

A few simple texts from Jenny.

…and then a few more.

Then came the emails.

I stared at the document- eyes wide, forehead resting against my palm. My eyes scrolled through the list, recognizing the first few names.

_Jenny, Ian, Murtagh, Angus, Rupert._

But the rest of the list blurred together as I saw countless names foreign to me. I flipped through the pages of names and found my saving grace at the bottom:

_Joe. Gail. Geillis._

My whole world defined in three words.

I had carefully built a life without many ties. I kept my circle of confidantes small. Over time, I felt less like the orphan I had for so long been, and before I knew it- I had created the closest thing to “family” that I had ever known.

_My world now included Jamie and his family._

Jamie was my home. He was the air I breathed and I was the beat of his heart.

But I did not know these names or the faces they matched; the rest of the list swirled in my head and I exhaled loudly as I shut my laptop, shaking my head to clear it.

“Everything alright, Sassenach?” His voice was calm, but I caught the hint of concern as he looked up from his work.

He had taken to bringing stacks of ledgers home after work- at first it was one or two pages but it had slowly crept across the kitchen counter, with just enough room at the end for me.

“Erm… Yes.” I tried for a light tone; there was no sense in worrying him over this. I had told him I was okay with the wedding he wanted, and I was, but I hadn’t expected it to be so… _much._

“Ye have no poker face- ye ken that, right?” He smiled as he set down the papers. He pushed the stool back and stretched his arms above his head, exposing a sliver of skin, tight against muscle at his waist. “The list- it’s a long one, aye?”

I reluctantly pulled my gaze to meet his and tried for a smile, “The Frasers have a bigger family than I thought.”

He chuckled, his muscles relaxing slightly as he nodded his head. “Aye- mostly it’s the MacKenzies, ye ken. Highlanders are steeped in tradition, wouldna be proper to no’ invite them.”

I closed my eyes and rolled my head to one side, stretching my shoulders in an attempt to relax. “Yes. I can see that.”

Large, warm hands encompassed me from behind, his chest against my back, arms locking around my shoulders. My hands found his and our fingers intertwined. He knew this was my favorite embrace; the rise and fall of his chest always slowed my breathing and steadied my heartbeat. He placed a kiss on my shoulder, and waited. We breathed together, in and out, silent for a moment, and I felt a calm wash over me.

“Better?” His voice was muffled as he nuzzled his face into the nest of curls pulled just off my neck.

“Always.”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” his voice hummed into my ear, “There’s only _one person_ I care to see at our wedding.”

I felt a smile creep into my voice as my cheek rested against his, “And who might that be.”

My heart skipped a beat as I felt his breath against my skin, the warmth traveling into my belly. I heard a rumble in his chest as his lips grazed my skin. “Mmmm. Let me see if I can find her.”

His hand moved to my waist, turning my body to face him. His mouth found mine as his tongue traced my bottom lip, seeking entry. I gave it without hesitation, leaning into him as one hand pulled me closer, the other reaching behind me, pushing his ledgers aside. Papers scattered behind me as he lifted my hips and gently lowered me onto the countertop. I surrendered to his movements as my thoughts scattered. Flickers of names, both foreign and familiar, gave way to waves of sensation as we found the rhythm we knew by heart.

___________

JAMIE

_The money._

 

Claire had picked up extra shifts at the hospital in an effort to pick up the overtime pay. The result was an irritable, exhausted Claire and he saw her wits start to fray at the seams.

At first he had taken his work home with him- both for a change of scenery as well as a chance to see Claire after her shifts. But with each long shift and late night, he found their conversations grow shorter and shorter, her tone developing a slight edge. She would come home exhausted, utter a few words and head to bed- at times fully dressed face down on the pillow.

He had not intentionally done so but late afternoons often turned into late evenings. More than once he had fallen asleep, head resting on arms folded on the desk-then waking at dawn bleary eyed and stiff.

The extra work would be worth it, he knew that.

But the strain of the wedding was starting to crack the perfect bubble of their engagement. Lallybroch in summer was a perfect backdrop for the official launch of Fraser’s Ridge. The soft open had been successful, but he knew that a strong first year was vital to its success.

The wedding coincided with the grand opening, and the majesty of Lallybroch dressed with flowers, muslin, and Fraser tartan was more than he could have hoped for. The grounds would be open for tasting the week leading up to the ceremony, with a crescendo the day before- the tasting room would be fully dressed for the reception, with CEBF as the spotlighted vintage.

_Six weeks to go._

After another late night that crept into early morning, he slowly made his way up the stairs to their flat. He was exhausted, hungry, and in need of a shower.

His key hit the lock with a thud, and he exhaled in relief as he pushed the door shut behind him, letting his briefcase and coat fall to the ground. He smelled the distinct smell of her favorite tea, and the side of his mouth curled into a half smile. He made his way towards the kitchen, anxious to find her.

She was standing in front of the sink, still in her pyjamas. He padded to her, eager to wrap his arms around her. He pressed his chest to her back, his hands grazing her stomach as they locked together in front of her.

She tensed slightly, sighing as she turned her head towards him. “Lovely to see you make an appearance.”

He pulled back reflexively, her words catching him off guard. “What exactly do ye mean by that, Sassenach?”

She turned towards him, stepping back slightly as she squared her shoulders. “Only that this is the fourth night this week you’ve slept… _somewhere else_.”

“And just _where_ do ye think I’ve been?” His limbs were heavy with fatigue but he felt a jolt of adrenaline shoot through his body as he stared at her.

“I _dinna ken_.” Her voice was low, flat- almost unrecognizable to him.

His voice was accusatory, almost indignant as he shook his head, “I’ve been slaving away at the distillery, workin’ to ready the _Ridge_ for the opening.”

She crossed her arms at her chest as she eyed him. She took two deep breaths before responding, “I didn’t ask for _this_.”

“Are ye _serious_ , Claire? This is all for _you_ and ye dinna even _want_ it?!” He felt his heart beat thumping in his chest, threatening to shatter the cage that restricted it.

“This isn’t for me.” She stepped towards him, her hands clenching into fists as her hands dropped to her side. “The wedding, _and all that goes with it_ , is important to YOU.”

“I told ye- I’d marry ye in a paper knapsack- carryin’ a bouquet of thistle, Sassenach.” He felt his pulse echo in his ears as he tried to control his tone, just barely in check. “Tradition is important to my family. And I ken that ye haven’t traditions of yer own- no’ like this, and I’m sorry for that, _truly_. I just want all that I have to be yers as well.”

He watched her closely, seeing her fists loosen and her breathing slow. Her jaw unclenched and her eyes widened. She took a deep breath before she took a small step towards him. One hand tentatively reached for his, her slender fingers hovered, waiting.

He waited, feeling his breath match hers, his shoulders slumped slightly as the last of his anger left his body like an extinguished matchstick. “I want nothing but the best for ye- fer us… I dinna want ye to think I canna properly provide as a husband should.”

Her fingers intertwined with his as she took the final step towards him. “Jamie, you know I love you. And I want _you_. I want a life with you. The wedding- it will be beautiful. But it’s just one day. I want the rest of our lives.”

He took a deep breath,

“I want _you_. Every day.” A small smile pulled at her lips as she cocked her head to the side, “and I want you in _my bed_. Every night. _Aye_?”

A small laugh passed through his lips as he nodded. Without another word, he pulled her to his chest and they stood together, silently breathing in the promise of better days to come.

___________

CLAIRE

_The vows._

 

One week to go.

Saturday brunch at our favorite cafe had become a somewhat weekly ritual as the wedding drew close. Jenny had taken over the wedding planning, and for the most part, I was eternally grateful. The flowers, seating arrangements, catering- it was overwhelming and I did not know the first thing about the family traditions that would soon become my own.

There was only one thing that mattered to me- saying my own words to Jamie.

I sipped my cup of oolong and nodded as she rattled off the completed items, eyeing me every few minutes to ensure I was indeed listening.

She turned to Jamie as she continued, “You’ll want to use the traditional vows- the same vows as mam and da, aye?”

_Wait… what? Traditional vows?_

“Aye. I dinna see-“ his eyes shifted to me and must have seen the red creep onto my cheeks.

My head was spinning, this was the final straw. The rest I could make peace with. But the words, mywords, they mattered to me. I felt my heartbeat in my fingertips as I tried to steady my breathing.

_Don’t make a scene. Not here. Not in public._

“Please… um… excuse me.” I stuttered, trying to remain calm as I placed my tea on the table. Despite my efforts, a splash of liquid escaped the mug and pooled on the marble top. I stared at it for a moment before abandoning them both, not meeting their stare. I needed air, space, and I needed to not think about the wedding.

I was halfway down the block before I heard his familiar stride behind me.

His large hand encompassed my arm and pulled me to a stop as he came around to face me. “Sassenach, what the devil’s gotten into ye?”

Tears threatened as I looked down at my feet. I heard his breathing as it shallowed, shaking slightly, but I found a speck on the pavement and held my gaze, slightly unfocused as I shifted from one side to the other.

“Claire, will ye _please_ look at me?” His tone was controlled but I knew it was not a request.

I shook my head for a moment before I felt a warm hand cup my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his. His eyes were wide; he looked bewildered as he took in my stare.

“Jamie, I-” I stuttered, closing my eyes, unsure of how to continue. I wanted to respect tradition; I wanted to give Jamie the gift of his parents’ words on our wedding day. But where was _I_ in all of this?

The crease in his brow faded and the grip on my arm relaxed as he took in my face. His gaze was intense and I fought to hold it, feeling suddenly dwarfed by his imposing shoulders- shoulders that just the night before had hovered over me as he found surrender.

I cleared my throat as I struggled to clear my thoughts and continue. “I know how important these traditions are, and I _want_ to give you all of it. I just-”

Two deep breaths.

“I just don’t know where _Claire Beauchamp_ is in any of this,” my words came fast and as I finished I felt breathless, empty. The words I had swallowed for the last several months were now lingering between us.

He said nothing but a ghost of a smile played at his lips as he nodded slowly. I caught a flicker of something I couldn’t name in his eyes as he held my stare. He took my hand and kissed my knuckles softly.

_One week._

_Then I would no longer be Claire Beauchamp._

_I would be Claire Fraser._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	24. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes I Don't Even Know Your Name (although there *may* be an epilogue coming!)

CLAIRE

Two days to go.

“Just one last turn at the seamstress- the tartan isna quite right.” Jenny’s voice was in full force but she took an extra breath to soften it a little.

This was our last pre-wedding visit and the café had cleared out as we sipped the last of our tea. Over the last several weeks, we had settled into a comfortable friendship, an easiness that quickly developed into kinship.

The Fraser genetics were strong; certain gestures would catch my eye and I saw glimpses of Jamie- a quirk of an eyebrow or a deep exhale in frustration. She was strong and fierce when it came to her family-which now included me, I had to constantly remind myself- and I loved her for it. 

“Erm… Okay yes of course.” My voice was soft and lacked conviction. The dress had looked fine to me- though I had little knowledge of just how the plaid was supposed to be arranged, folded, and tucked into my gown, so I just nodded and tried for a smile.

“We’re almost done Claire. I ken this is a lot for ye, seein’ as ye dinna grow up wi’ so many traditions as Jamie.” Her voice was kind and she gently squeezed my left hand, her finger grazed the ring- pausing on the engraved thistle. She smiled softly as she released my hand, adding with a chuckle, “Ye may be a _Sassenach_ , but we’ll make a _Scot_ of you yet.”

I laughed with her as my right hand traced the side of my cup. The reality of her words hit my chest and I felt my heartbeat quicken, both in excitement and in anticipation.

____________

“Are ye okay, Sassenach?”

Two deep breaths.

“Yes.”

I was not convincing- with a single glance, Jamie read my glass face. One hand cupped my head while large fingers massaged my scalp. He whispered words I didn’t quite understand but closed my eyes and let his voice and touch seep into my bones. After a few moments I felt calm and I leaned back, tilting my head up and he brought his mouth down to mine.

His lips were soft and warm, but he pulled away before I was ready. The noise that escaped me curled his lips at the corners and his fingers tightened around my curls momentarily before releasing me.

“I do love yer squeaky noises,” he laughed lightly as he slid into the chair beside me.

An earnest laugh emanated from my chest as I shook my head, “I do not make squeaky noises.”

“As ye say, _mo chridhe_ ,” his eyes softened as he said the word and I felt a flutter in my chest. I watched him grab the whisky bottle as he refilled my glass. I stretched my legs across his lap, my calf fitting in the space between his thighs, my feet dangling just slightly over. I blinked slowly, eyes unfocused on the table in front of me. 

“What’s on yer mind?” He reached for my glass, taking a gulp of the amber liquid before setting it back down in front of me. “I can hear somethin’ rattlin’ round fierce up there.”

“It’s just…” I was stalling. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.” His voice was steady. “Ye ken that- right, Sassenach?”

I looked up from the table to see a calm deep blue staring back at me. I nodded and tried for a smile.

“The wedding-”

His brow flickered and his eyes widened but he regained control almost immediately, forcing my words to come quickly.

“Oh god NO- _No_ Jamie, I’m not having second thoughts.” I could hear the panic in my voice as I leaned forward, my fingers searching for his. Finding one large hand resting on my thigh, I squeezed it with both hands.

“Ye sure?” his voice was thick with concern but he tried to hide it with a small smile as his other hand reached for and gently held the arch of my foot-lightly tickling it. “Are ye havin’ cold feet?”

I squirmed and tried to pull my foot but he grabbed my ankle, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

I recognized the gesture- he had done it before, many times. After long shifts or tough patient cases, he would find me thoroughly wrapped up in my own thoughts, and his hand would find one of a thousand ticklish spots on my body and gently caress it. Without fail, it would bring me back to the present and break down the cascade of thoughts I was drowning in.

“Aye, still no’ a squeak, ye say?” He tried for a wink as he loosened his grip and set his hand on a safe spot and my muscles relaxed.

A slight silence hung between the two of us and I felt the weight of my words returned.

“Your world is just so much… _bigger_ than mine.” I brought my hands to my forehead, rubbing my temples as I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath before I opened them again and looked at him. “It’s just… I feel… _adrift_. I’m afraid “ _we_ ” are going to get lost in all of this and… I won’t get to tell you what’s in my heart.”

He brought his body to me, hugged me and let his lips hover against my forehead as his breath came in waves, steady on my skin.

____________

JAMIE

He could see her body slightly relax but still her frame looked contorted, almost foreign.

 _Adrift_.

The word cut deep to his core and he flinched at the thought of it. He blinked hard, eyes focused on a curl of her hair as he rested his chin against her forehead.

Tradition was important to him- as old as the Highlands themselves. He wanted everything he was, including those traditions, to be offered to her. But she was _his Claire_. He was _hers_ \- irrevocably. He would lay himself bare, drop to his knees, and give up everything he was- for her.

The pageantry of the ceremony and reception had filled the space between them for the last several weeks, and he felt a sudden need to anchor himself to her- and her to him.

Flashes of an idea skated across his vision and he smiled into her curls. But that could come later. For tonight, he let his fingers linger in her hair and he slowly shifted closer to her, eager.

____________

CLAIRE

One day to go.

Our bed was empty. Jamie had risen early, before I woke. I stretched my limbs, feeling a peculiar laziness coupled with a sensation of heady fulfillment from the night before. He had been both gentle and intoxicating last night, and the effects were still lingering in my bones as I floated somewhere between sleep and waking.

I had felt the drip of water from his curls as he mumbled a few sweet words into my cheek before leaving. _Last minute preparations at the distillery._

The day surged ahead as texts came with lightning speed. Final checks on the dress, flowers, cake. The screen of my phone lit with a pulsing frequency; after a flurry of texts and a few missed calls, I had had enough. I was just about to shut my phone off when the screen lit up and it rang.

_Joe._

Hearing from him was like a breath of fresh air.

I swiped the screen to answer and felt a sigh escape my lips.

“Hey hey, Lady Jane.”

“Joe!” I felt a lightness to my tone I hadn’t recognized in weeks and let my lips form a full smile as I reveled in the feeling. “It’s so good to hear your voice!”

“Surprised you recognized me, what with all the wedding hoopla.”

I knew he was joking but I felt my heart constrict and my breath caught in my chest. It felt like an eternity since I had seen him or Gail, or discussed anything other than patient cases or the infinite details of the wedding.

“Don’t cry on me now LJ or there’ll be no more tears for the big day,” his voice was laced with sincerity but I knew he was trying to lighten the mood. “So, you ready to go?”

“What you do you mean?”

“I’m downstairs; get your skinny white ass down here. I’m taking you to lunch.”

“Joe I couldn’t _possibly_ \- there’s so much to do.”

“Nonsense. I’ve got you covered,” I caught the smile on the other end of the phone, and I returned it.

____________

JAMIE

Murtagh’s eyebrows danced across his forehead as he surveyed Jamie, fingers tracing the lines of the object in his hand. “Yer parents would be _proud_.”

“Aye?” he asked, a flicker of nerves crept into his voice as he cleared his throat. His hands moved with purpose but he noted a slight tremble to them. He clenched his hands into fists and released them, watching his fingers steady as he stretched them back out.

“I wasna sure there was a _right_ woman for ye, but-” Jamie caught his uncle’s smile out of the corner of his eye and he paused, turning to face him. Murtagh nodded slowly, looking up to meet Jamie’s stare. “Claire has the sweetest smile. Havena seen one sae pure since yer mother.”

Jamie smiled and sighed. The only thing missing- his mam and da. He knew they would give their blessing, that they would have fallen for Claire just as he had. But in their absence, he was grateful to his kinsman for his approval.

Murtagh turned the pin over in his hands, softly repeating the inscription as he rubbed the metal to a polished shine. He kissed it gently before holding it out to Jamie.

He nodded, taking it carefully. After a moment, he raised his arms slightly as he presented himself for approval. “…Well?”

Murtagh’s voice was gruff but he heard the undercurrent of pride in his voice, “ _Ye’ll do_.”

____________

CLAIRE

The afternoon felt almost normal. Joe had confiscated my phone, turning it off and pocketing it. My initial panic was soon replaced with gratitude. I needed a few precious hours of normalcy before tomorrow. If anyone really needed me the list of whom to call would be short, and they’d find Joe.

We took up residence at our spot at Broch Mordha. The bottles still lined the brick wall, dotted with Edison bulbs. I settled into my barstool and shook my head, thinking back to the night we celebrated the end of medical school- the first time I saw Jamie. Since then we had spent countless nights here, glasses set atop the bar as we discussed future plans and recounted old memories. We ordered our usual drinks, sank into our seats, and talked about everything _but_ the wedding and time seemed to stand still.

With a heavy sigh as our laughter died down, I looked down at my glass- disappointed to see it empty. The lingering taste of Glen Grant played at my tongue and the stress of the last few weeks slowly melted away and I felt content.

Joe eyed the clock behind the bar and smiled. He shifted towards me, his hand pulling out a small piece of paper from his breast pocket. A crisp, white, precisely folded note was suspended between his thumb and index finger, held out for me. I took it gently, my eyebrows pressed together as I eyed Joe’s face. He kept his expression passive and shifted back towards his glass.

I slowly unfolded the paper, noting the precision of the fold.

“ _Sassenach-_

_Join me for a hike._

_Direach Sinn._

_JAMMF_ ”

I looked at him with eyes wide, mouth open, speechless.

“Joe…” I felt tears threaten.

“The man is pretty stubborn, I’ll give him that.” He said with a laugh and shake of his head.

“Yes, I know,” I matched his smile, my fingers tracing each letter on the paper.

“I wasn’t so sure about him at first, LJ. Seemed too good to be true, thought he was like all the rest.” He tilted his head, and I met his gaze, “But he’s your match, the other half of you- neither of you whole without the other.”

I felt my chin tremble as I nodded, smiling with a laugh, “You’re bloody right- as always, Joe.”

“Well you should get going, hm?”

I took one more moment before reaching for him, embracing him in a rib-crushing hug and giving a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Joe.”

“Anything for you, Lady Jane.” His arms encompassed me for a final moment before releasing me. With hands firmly set on my shoulders, he gave a wink before sending me on my way.

The hike was peaceful, but I felt an anticipation building with each step. I hadn’t seen Jamie all day and relished the thought of a few quiet moments in what had become _our spot_ before the big day. I didn’t need much, just his steady calm next to me.

As I crested the hill, I was struck by the view. Vibrant purple and red of sunset streaked the sky, but they paled in comparison to the man standing in front of me.

A Highlander in full regalia was a sight to behold. His auburn curls burned like a match against the glow of the horizon. His navy blue jacket popped against the white of his button down shirt; his tie was tucked snugly, perfectly, into his vest and the distinctive Fraser plaid of his kilt hung precisely from his trim waist. A length of plaid draped over his left shoulder- secured with a pin.

I stopped short, taking in the breathtaking beauty that was Jamie.

His smile lit his face and I saw a flash of pride in his eyes as my gaze met his.

“ _Mo Nighean Donn_ ,” he held out a hand to me and I took a few steps forward, the world around me froze and then melted away and all I could see was Jamie.

His hand closed around mine, squeezing gently and I felt a rush of warmth encompass me. 

His voice was low and his accent thick but his eyes shone with a light I remembered from the first time we kissed- expectation mixed with contentment. “I ken ye dinna want or need a big weddin.’ It’s just _you_ and _me_ here. No one else.”

“ _Direach Sinn_ ,” I said, trying for the lilt but failing.

He smiled back at me, a look of pride on his face. “Aye, Sassenach. _Just us_.”

He took both my hands in his and took a deep breath before he started.

“Claire,” his voice caressed my name and my heartbeat quickened. “I dinna have enough words to tell ye how much I love ye. But I vow to spend every day for the rest of my life tryin’ to show ye. I give ye my body to serve and protect ye. I give ye my name, my clan, and my family to ye. I give ye the very beat of my heart.”

He paused, raising my left hand to his lips, kissing the ring softly. My vision blurred with tears as I took in his face and tried to memorize every sound of his words as he spoke them.

“Ye are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone.” His voice continued, stronger and clearer than I had ever heard it. “I give ye my spirit- and all that I am, till our lives shall be done.”

Wisps of curls tickled my cheek but I could not move or look away from his face. His eyes pierced through me, a clear, deep blue stare filled with a weight I had never seen nor felt before. I took his other hand and kissed it, squeezing both hands gently as I tried to steady myself.

_Two deep breaths._

I conjured the words I had played over in my head; words he had written on my heart, and that had danced on my tongue since we met.

“Jamie,” his name came out as a whisper. “Whatever lies ahead for us, I want you by my side- to turn to for comfort, for security, and most of all, I want to celebrate and _live_ this life with you. I vow to keep the home we have found in each other, forever.”

His hands released from my grip, one finding my waist and pulling me closer to him, the other rested against the line of my cheek. His breath shook slightly as his lips met mine. He was warm and steady and I felt the fulfillment of every ache, need, wish, hope, and promise between us. His arms held me tight as the world around us fell away and all that existed was him and me.

When our lips parted, I felt his smile and I opened my eyes to see his hooded, a heady mix of awe and wonder staring back at me. He nodded slowly, placing a final kiss on my forehead before relaxing his hold on me, creating a breath of space between us. 

“It’s only _proper_ to toast after a vow, aye?” He tried for a wink as his hand traveled to his sporran, producing the familiar leather flask.

A giggle escaped my lips as I shook my head. “You bloody _Scot_. You’d do just about anything for a bit of whisky, aye?”

“Ye ken ye are marryin’ a lad who makes whisky for a livin’. Of course I am goin’ to take my CEBF where ever I go.”

I eyed him for a final moment, cocking my head to one side as I took a sip from the flask. I hummed in appreciation as the current of honey and almond filled my senses. I tipped the flask to Jamie and he took it, taking a long pull without breaking eye contact. I felt flush as a smile formed on his lips and I matched it. 

My eyes lingered to the pin tucked into his tartan plaid just above his heart. “What’s this?”

“My clan-” he paused, a smile spreading across his face as he continued, “ _Our_ clan’s motto.”

“Je Suis Prest?” I asked.

“Aye,” his voice was barely audible. “I am ready.”

I could feel his eyes linger on me as he waited. I smiled as I lifted my eyes to meet his. “Yes, I _am_.”

His hands cupped my cheek as he brought my face to his. I felt the electricity pulse between us as my arms circled around his neck, holding him close.

We had bared our hearts to each other; our souls were fused with the promises spoken. To me, to _us_ , this was our ceremony.

Jamie was my _husband_ , and I was now his _wife_.

The rest of it, it was a celebration. I had what I wanted, what I _needed_. I was finally Claire Fraser. 

Tomorrow would be the first day of our marriage, and that I intended to celebrate.

But tonight, in this moment, I filled every sense with the promise of Jamie and me. Together, we watched as the sun crested over the ridge, the colors faded around us as a soft glow encapsulated us. We held each other, a promise of a thousand tomorrows wrapped around us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading-and your love and support with each chapter!


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